


beautiful boy

by azablue



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang (Avatar) Is A Good Parent, Aang and Katara are trying, Bumi II gets hurt, Bumi II is a good older brother, Bumi's Trilingual, Different languages, F/M, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Katara and Aang's kids are mixed, Katara is a good mom, Kiyi - mentioned, Kya II is gay, Mixed Race, Multi, Other, Post Series, Pre-Avatar: Legend of Korra, Protective Siblings, Reunion, Same Universal Language, Siblings, Sokka and Zuko are uncles, Toph (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Zuko (Avatar) is a Good Parent, united forces
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azablue/pseuds/azablue
Summary: Aang knew grief like an old friend. In his youth, it had been painful to grapple with the idea that the Air Nomads were gone, that he was truly alone. He knew deep down that no matter what he did, that weight on his shoulders was so heavy it would follow him into his next life. Spirits help his successor.But this time, it was different. This was new. The emptiness that often accompanied the pit in Aang’s stomach was replaced with something sickening. His body rejected the possibility of Bumi’s death like poison. It wasn’t real. He had to be alive.OR: When he's 19, Bumi II gets hurt in the United Forces and his family is told he is missing in action. Aang and Katara try to be there for their injured son, their two other children, and each other as their lives are thrown out of balance. Their friends and family rally around them, and we explore family dynamics, trauma, and being okay with being not okay.(includes baby Bumi flashbacks!)
Relationships: Aang & Bumi II, Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang & Kya II (Avatar), Aang & Sokka (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Bumi II & Katara, Bumi II & Kya II & Tenzin (Avatar), Bumi II & Kya II (Avatar), Bumi II & Sokka (Avatar), Bumi II & Tenzin, Bumi II/Izumi (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Kya II & Tenzin (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 110
Kudos: 169





	1. other plans

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first ever multi-chapter fic, and I am so excited! 
> 
> I've had this idea for a while and I'm so happy to finally be sharing it! I think there is so much to explore with Katara and Aang's family, especially with how they deal with crisis considering their childhood's/adolescence. Plus I love writing Katara and Aang as parents :)
> 
> I plan on updating bi-weekly/weekly, I hope you enjoy!

_“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”_

Katara’s first thought, when she saw a man standing with an urgent telegram at her front door, was that something happened with Aang.

She tried to quell the frustration rising in her as she was handed the telegram, knowing inside was bound to be her husband’s apology along with the announcement would be staying a few more days. Aang rarely went on longer trips, stopping after his children started school and it became clear they all couldn’t follow, but as the Avatar some things were unavoidable. This particular trip was only supposed to be one week, which, to Katara, was already beginning to feel like too long. But this telegram wasn’t from her husband, it was addressed to _both_ of them- Avatar Aang and Master Katara. The only person to have ever sent them _both_ an urgent telegram this late at night, was Zuko- only if everything had gone so incredibly wrong that he had to rally Team Avatar before the sun rose. Katara knew what followed a message like that, there was always danger and fighting and her family being uprooted for the sake of the world, _again._ But this time, she realized, the message couldn’t have been from Zuko. Aang was _with_ the Fire Lord presently and the telegram didn’t have the royal seal. Her pulse quicken as she unfolded the scroll. There was something else happening. Something was wrong.

_02 Shi-gatsu 126 AG_

__

_Private Bumi, Second Division of the United Forces has been declared missing in action since 2300 HRS 01 Shi-gatsu._

_Remaining members of Squadron 5522 were dispatched to Red Sand Island Hospital 0500 HRS 02 Shi-gatsu 126 AG_

_If further details or other information are received you will be promptly notified_

_Condolences,_

_General Lee, Second Division of the United Forces_

Katara’s heart dropped. After all the trials of her youth, she liked to imagine she had experienced the worst things that would ever happen to her. Reading this letter, she decided later, moved to the very top of the list. This moment would not plague her nightmares like the fall of Ba Sing Se, nor would she have visions of the telegram like she did of her mother’s body. She would not be able to _feel_ this moment years later, like she could still taste electricity in the air on the day they won the war. But this, standing in her living room, in a world that was at peace, would become the worst thing she’d ever experience, because it was happening to her _son._ Her son who could be gone _._ Dead. He could have left this world not as an old man with a legacy of his own, but as Private Bumi, age 19, Squadron 5522.

_No._

_——————————————————————————————_

Toph woke up to the sound of a knock at the front door. She groaned, rolling over and sticking one foot out from beneath the covers to _thwap_ onto the floor. Her guest bedroom was specially made when building the house on Air Temple Island, equipped with stone floors (that extended throughout the bottom floor) and metal fixtures so Toph could get a better read on her surroundings. Once she deduced the person at the door was not a threat, she felt no obligation to intervene, rolling back over and sinking deeper into her blankets. Toph and her girls were staying the night on the island after family dinner turned into an impromptu slumber party, as it often did as the kids got older. When Katara offered Toph could stay over too, she didn’t need much convincing. Toph knew that while she didn’t show it, having two empty spots at her dinner table was weighing on Katara. Ever since Bumi joined the navy, whenever Aang went on a trip, Katara was just a little bit _off._ She missed her boys. And while Toph couldn’t bring any of _those,_ she reasoned two girls and an extra adult would be more than enough to make the house feel less empty.

Toph could hear Katara make her way down the steps and open the door, but she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. She sighed and swung both legs off the bed, flexing her soles flat on the floor. The war took its toll on everyone in different ways, and Toph knew her residual anxieties would make it impossible to go back to sleep until she felt Katara go safely back upstairs.

While waiting, Toph decided to check on her girls. She stretched out a hand, smacking the long metal pole that ran from the floor to the ceiling of her room. Her room was the epicenter of an elaborate metal web that stretched throughout the entire home. With one tap, Toph could “see” her children sleeping peacefully in the rooms above her. To her surprise, none of the teenagers (or Su) were in their rooms, but instead trying to _stealthily_ sneak into the kitchen via the back staircase for what she could only assume was a midnight snack. _Amatuers_. 

Toph was thinking of all the different pranks she could play on the kids as punishment for being so bad at sneaking around, when Katara’s quickening heart beat pulled her back to reality. Something was wrong.

Toph’s anxieties only grew when Katara didn’t move or shift her weight or do _anything_ to discern she heard her walk into the living room. She was frozen. The only indication of Katara being a living, breathing being to Toph’s feet was her heart racing.

“Katara? Katara what happened? Your heart’s beating a mile a minute,” Toph asked, putting a careful hand on Katara’s shoulder and guiding her to the sitting room cushions. The movement seemed to be enough to break Katara from her trance.

“We got a telegram… “ Katara said inattentively, motioning to the paper in her hand.

“You’re going to have to give me more than that Queenie,” Toph said, hoping her light tone would quell her rising nerves. She, like Katara, knew telegram at this time of night meant only two things: Aang was going to be late, or something was _very_ wrong. Toph prayed that Aang was extending his trip and Katara was just really _really_ upset about it.

Katara barely heard her.  
  
“Bumi… he’s missing in action,” Katara whispered.

“Fuck. Katara I’m so sorry.” Toph winced after she spoke. Katara _hated_ swearing and often chastised her for it, but in the moment Toph didn’t know what else to say. This was not what she was expecting. Bumi, _their_ Bumi, might not be coming home. Fuck.

“They sent the name of a hospital,” Katara said, smoothing out the telegram she had crumpled under her grip, "I have to go. Tonight.” Toph sighed, placing her steady hands over Katara’s shaking ones.

“What do you need.”

_——————————————————————————————_

“What are they talking about?” Su whispered from her perch on the kitchen counter. Their original mission of raiding the snack cabinet had been all but abandoned. All four of them stood frozen in the kitchen, unsure of how to proceed without getting caught.

“Let’s just get the snacks and get out of here!” Kya whispered back, shoving a bag of seal jerky in her brother’s hands, which he promptly dropped, the _thwap_ of jerky hitting the stone floor echoing through the room.  
  
“Kya!” Tenzin hissed, “I’m _vegetarian!_ ”

“Oh please,” Kya scoffed, “you can still _touch it_ you drama queen! You stopped eating meat like three years ago I don’t see the problem-”

“Shhh.” Lin said, gathering the group’s attention. She closed her eyes and pressed both of her hand on the floor, “something’s wrong.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Tenzin said, quickly dropping the fight with his sister.  
  
“It’s their heartbeats,” Lin continued, “both of them are really quick.” Kya took this as enough of an excuse to take action and started marching towards the living room.  
  
“We shouldn’t” Tenzin said, stepping between his sister and the door. Kya rolled her eyes at her younger brother, always the best behaved of his siblings. Even getting him to raid the kitchen with them had taken rather intense peer pressure.  
  
“It could be about dad,” Kya reasoned, attempting to push passed her younger brother. She still had quite a bit of height on her sibling, but he wasn’t moving.  
  
“ _Kya-”_ Tenzin said in his most dad-like, serious voice.  
  
“ _Tenzin,”_ Kya retorted, mirroring his tone to mock him. Neither Kya nor Tenizn had gotten used to their new dynamic, even after almost a year of being the only two children regularly in the house. Their fight had taken so much of the attention, none of the teenagers realized that the youngest among them was already opening their door.  
  
“Mom?” Su said, peeking her head through the slat, “what are you guys talking about?”

_——————————————————————————————_

Katara felt like she was under water. As soon as she read the first line of the telegram, she was drowning. Toph had been talking to her for quite some time, or maybe not that much time? She hadn’t been paying that close of attention. _Pack. Oggi. Ferry. Hospital. Bumi. Bumi. Bumi. Bumi. -_  
  
Su.

 _Su?_ Thankfully, Katara’s back was to the kitchen, granting just a few more moments to collect herself before facing her niece. Much to her chagrin, all of the kids were poking their heads out of the slat in the door, their faces riddled with varying degrees of confusion and worry. This was not apart of the plan.

“Is dad okay?” Kya questioned. Whenever something was wrong, that was always the place their mind’s would go. At sixteen Kya had experienced more than one close call with her dad.

“Hi babies,” Katara said, motioning with shaky hands to the cushions beside her. “Dad is okay, come sit.” She smiled weakly at her children as they came in, trying her best not to worry them. Lin and Su still stood by the doorframe, unsure of how to proceed, until their mother beckoned them to her side.As they silently took their seats, Toph squeezed Lin’s shoulder and pulled Su closer in, not taking for granted that all of her children were _here._ Kya and Tenzin exchanged a glace.

“Should I be scared?” Tenzin questioned. Katara sighed. One of the most important things to Katara as a partent, was that her children’s lives would be as stable as possible. This was, in part, because their father was the Avatar. She knew there were elements of their lives that would always be haphazard, and thus she wanted to capitalize on what she could control. However, the bigger reason was due to her own upbringing. Katara grew up in war, almost nothing in her life was ever secure. She made sure, to the best of her ability, that her children would not grow up the same way. It pained her to tell them like this, in the middle of the night, while she herself was still in shock. Katara did not want to burden her children without more information, without a plan. But here they all were.

“Kya, Tenzin…” Katara started, looking between them, “Bumi got hurt in the United Forces.”

“What?” Tenzin said after a beat, “what happened?”  
  
“We don’t know. His squadron got attacked last night,” Katara said gently, gathering both her children’s hands in her own, “I’m really sorry, I know this is scary.”

“Will he be okay?” Kya asked suddenly.

“Yes he will,” Katara said, although she wasn’t sure if it was for their benefit or her own. “He’s at a hospital at Red Sand Island, I’m going tonight.”

“We’re coming with you,” Kya said definitively.

“Baby, I really don’t think-”

“We can’t just stay waiting here!” Tenzin stated, raising his voice and matching his sister’s intensity, “he’s our brother.” Katara sighed. This was not the plan.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, not having the bandwidth to argue, “I need to pack first. Toph? Could you come with me a moment?”

“Of course,” Toph replied, turning to follow Katara up the stairs, “we’ll be right back.”

_——————————————————————————————_

Katara didn’t let herself fall apart until she was alone in her bedroom, far away from her kids. She couldn’t scare them, and _this_ was going to be scary. She fell to the ground, sobs that had been threatening to slip out since she got the telegram were finally racking her chest. Katara couldn’t stop thinking of the night Bumi told her he was joining the navy, it had been their biggest fight ever. She wished now, with all her heart, that she had made him stay. He would hate her, she reasoned, but he would be here, unequivocally alive. _No._ She thought to herself, _Bumi is alive. He’s alive. He’s alive and he needs me._ Slowly, she picked herself back off the floor. This was not a time for mourning.

_——————————————————————————————_

The children sat in an uncomfortable silence, only broken by the occasional sniffle from Su. Lin wanted so badly to comfort the others, but she wasn’t quite sure how to start. Nobody had spoken since their parents left the room, Tenzin had been reading some piece of paper for the passed few minutes, and Kya was just… staring. Her blank expression must have been to be worrying Su, who was already on the verge of tears, because she climbed into Lin’s arms. Lin couldn’t remember the last time Su opted to sit in her lap over Kya’s, or the last time she _wanted_ her sister in her lap. But tonight she did, and tonight Su chose Lin. She pulled her sister closer, running a hand through Su’s tangled hair.The air was thick with feelings none of them quite knew how to place. Lin never expected this was how her cousin’s story would go. Bumi was not a stranger to trouble, never shying away from a dare or ridiculous stunt. He was fearless, which earned him more than one broken bone during his childhood. But he always got back up. Bumi never let anyone or anything hold him back. He seemed… untouchable.

Lin smoothed out the last tangle from Su’s hair and awkwardly kissed the top of her head, her sister had pressed her face into Lin’s chest, visibly upset but otherwise content in her older sister’s lap. Kya and Tenzin hadn’t moved. Kya was mechanically rubbing the bracelet around her wrist, and Tenzin’s eyes still were glued to the small piece of paper. Lin sighed. She would have to do something.

“He’ll be okay,” Lin started, it seemed appropriate and probably factual. _Katara had said that_ , Lin reasoned, _even if it felt like she was-  
_  
“We don’t know that,” Tenzin said, looking up finally from the note.  
  
“What?” Lin exclaimed, startled at the authority in his voice.

“Look,” Tenzin said, referencing the piece of paper in his hands. Before he could pass it to Lin, Kya, seemingly back from wherever her mind had gone for the past seven minutes, snatched the note from his hands. Her eyes widened as she read.  
  
“Tenzin’s right, the telegram it says ‘missing in action,’” Kya started, waving the telegram. Out of the corner of her eye Lin could see the full vase by the front door start to teeter. Kya continued, raising her voice, “we don’t even know if he’s-”  
  
“Kya.” Everyone froze. Toph was standing at the base of the stairs, using what Su called her “cop voice” to get their attention. Kya sheepishly sat back down, although Lin couldn’t remember when she had even stood up. Toph walked over to the sitting cushions in silence, none of the kids daring to make a sound. As soon as Toph sat down, Su clambered into her lap and started to cry again. It was clear she didn’t completely understand what was happening, but she knew her _favorite_ big cousin wasn’t okay.Toph rubbed small circles into her daughter’s back, taking her time before addressing the teenagers,“look… thisis scary, but we aren’t helping Bumi by moping around and reading _letters_. Here’s what we’re going to do. Lin go upstairs and start packing bags with your sister. Kya and Tenzin get your uncle. He has a radio at his house that can patch to the palace where your dad is.”

“We can take Oogie,” Tenzin offered. He and his sister leaped into action, setting off towards the air bison stables. Lin waved goodbye from the window as her friends set off into the night, heading to the glittering city across the bay.  
  
“Hey why didn’t you send me to Sokka’s?” Lin asked her mother, “I don’t really know what to pack.”  
  
“Whatever happens, these next few days are going to be really hard for the two of them. ” Toph said, moving to the window and placing hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “they need a moment to process the news, together.” 

“Katara was lying earlier,” Lin said softly, still looking out the window. Toph’s hand tightened on her shoulder.  
  
“What?”  
  
“When Tenzin asked if he was going to be okay,” Lin explained, “she lied.”  
  
“She doesn’t know Lin,” Toph said gently.

“Oh.”  
  
“But I _do_ know, that if anyone in the world could help Boom,” Toph said, “it’s Katara.”

Lin could feel she wasn’t lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo hoo first chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> I'm really excited to be writing this, I already have most of it done, it just needs a LOT of editing haha. I've been wanting to write more fics about Katara and her as a mother especially, and this idea just popped into my head! If you have any critiques or suggestions or anything don't hesitate to let me know! 
> 
> thank you so so much for reading
> 
> \- Azalea :)


	2. tonight I'll drift in a dream with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's sibling moments, lots of packing, and Aang finds out Bumi's missing in action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two! this one's a bit longer than the last, and I had a lot of fun writing it! let me know what you think, I hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> The quote is from "Lullaby" by The Chicks.

_“Tomorrow there'll be so much to do, so tonight I'll drift in a dream with you”_

Ember Island, 20 Years Earlier

There was something to special about waking up to the sound of ocean. The waves crashing on the beach, the smell salt in the air. Even before you open your eyes you know exactly where you are, as if the earth itself is guiding you out of sleep, one sense at a time. In a strange way it reminded Katara of the South Pole. As a child she often woke up to the sound of voices, the men and women of her village making conversation as they started the day. Their chatter mixed with the crunch of shoes on freshly fallen snow was the backdrop of her life, just as much apart of the world as the ice itself.

She hoped her child would hear them too, the voices and the snow. And the ocean waves. They would never wonder about the world the way she did. Katara wanted them to _know_ it. All of it.

She turned to face her husband, who was, to her surprise, already wide awake. He was staring at her in the way he would, like she was the was the most important thing on earth. Although, she mused, that title would soon be passed on. They lay there for a moment, letting each other _be._ It was still the early morning, and while Katara wasn’t a ‘morning person,’ she relished any time of peace with Aang. Katara broke the silence first, noticing her husband’s gaze was drifting from her face, down to her stomach.

“What are you thinking about?” Aang looked up, meeting his wife’s eyes with a happy smile.

“Baby names,” he said sheepishly.

“We still have a lot of time left for that,” Katara replied, resting a hand on her flat stomach. They had found out about the baby a week before the vacation. The trip was in celebration of Zuko’s 23rd birthday, and the whole gang had made the journey to help the young Fire Lord relax. The couple still hadn’t told their friends about the pregnancy, agreeing to wait at least another month before sharing the news. However, they knew it was only a matter of time before Toph approached them to ask about the second heartbeat coming from her friend.   
  
“I know, but I just can’t help it. We get to choose his name, the one he’s going to have for his whole life,” Aang said, “it’s so much responsibility, I want to get it right.” Katara couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of her husband, the Avatar, fretting over the _responsibility_ of naming someone. But that was Aang. She also knew that technically, if they were to follow Water Tribe Tradition (which she wanted to do), it would be the elders of her tribe that would officially name their baby. But that conversation, the one over how to find balance raising a child that was both Air Nomad and Water Tribe, was a longer, never ending one, for a different day.

“His name?” Katara inquired, “How do you know it’s going to be a boy?”

  
“I’m the Avatar.” Aang said, smirking. His wife’s eyes widened.

“Wait really?”   
  
“No- what?” Aang chuckled, “it was a joke, did you really think I knew?” Katara’s face reddened as her husband fell into a fit of laughter. He had been spending too much time with Sokka.  
  
“I don’t know! There’s a lot of Avatar stuff that doesn’t make sense to me!” Katara yelled back. Aang was literally the most powerful being in the universe, it wouldn’t be crazy for him to know the gender of an unborn baby. He could see the _future_ sometimes, this didn’t feel too far off.   
  
“But how would I know _that_!” Aang said, in between laughs.

“Hey don’t tease me!” Katara pouted, hitting her husband playfully with one of the many pillows every bed in the Fire Nation seemed to be equipped with, “I’m carrying _our_ baby!”   
  
“You’re right you’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t know if it’ll be a boy but I just have this… feeling,” Aang said seriously, with a far off look in his eye that made Katara think that maybe it _was_ an Avatar thing, or at least an Air Nomad thing. Some-thing. “I don’t mind either way though,” he added quickly.

“Me too,” Katara agreed, looking down at her stomach, “honestly I still can’t believe it’s… real.”

“Me neither.” Aang said. When they first found out about the baby, the couple had been overjoyed, but it was quite the surprise. While they had gotten married fairly young, Katara and Aang had planned to wait at least another five or six years before trying to have kids. The war had only been over for seven years, the world was still healing. _They_ were still healing. They were going to wait. And yet, one week ago, Katara left the healer in Omashu with news that completely changed their timeline.

But then again, time had never exactly been kind to Aang.  
  
“So what names were you thinking?” Katara asked. Aang looked away, suddenly self-conscious.  
  
“Well, really only one name, and only for a boy but… I was thinking maybe… Bumi.” Katara stared at her husband, who was trying to avoid eye contact. Before the birthday trip, Katara and Aang had gone to visit the kind of Omashu. Bumi had been sick before they arrived,and while he had completely recovered by their visit, the illness had taken a toll on his body. Their time together opened Aang’s eyes to the reality that his oldest friend did not have much more time on this earth. Aang had been trying to stay positive, but it was clear that Bumi’s health was troubling him more than he wanted to let on.

“Bumi,” Katara said thoughtfully. The king, had always been there for her husband, longer than anyone else alive. He was the first (only) person they had told about the baby. “I think it’s perfect.”

_——————————————————————————————_

Republic City, Present

Kya loved to fly at night. She always had. Her parents used to say the only thing that got her to fall asleep as a baby, was if Aang took her flying. Her mother said it was because she was half Air Nation, and her father said it was because she was closer to the moon. Kya thought maybe it was both. Or neither. Regardless, it always gave her peace.

For the first time ever, she hated flying. The air that normally made her feel free was suffocating, and the moon, which was usually her biggest comfort, waned. Kya pulled the loose sleeves of her night shirt further down her arm, when they left she didn’t think bring a jacket. She hadn’t been _thinking_ much at all, everything had felt like some sort of dream. Now, however, she was wide awake. And it was very much the middle of the night.

Kya turned to her brother, who was sitting beside her, his eyes fixed forward. Not for the first time in her life, she cursed his ability to control his body temperature.

She wasn’t sure what to say to Tenzin. That had been the theme of the past year. For their entire lives Bumi had been a sort of buffer for the two of them, and they were still getting used to living without one. Bumi taught Kya everything he knew, but he didn’t teach her how to be the oldest. She was the _middle._ And she liked it. And even though he hadn’t been living with them for nearly a year, she never fully stepped into her new role. She never thought she’d need to. Until now, when reality came crashing down around her. Her older brother, his older brother, _the older brother_ wasn’t invincible. She had never in a million years considered that one of her _brothers_ could get taken away. Her parents? Of course. They were some of the most important people in the world. But Bumi? Tenzin? They were a forever. Or at least she thought.

Kya wished Lin was here. Or even Su. Or Toph- _anyone_ to fill the silence she was drowning in. She cleared her throat, thinking of something to say. Tenzin was young, but he was smart. He would see through any words of reassurance, they both knew the same amount of information. His eyes were still glued forward, and it occurred to Kya that she had no idea which direction they were going. The city was glowing below them, but they were too high up to make out any of the streets clearly.

“Hey, are you sure you’re-” Kya started.

“I’m flying the right way,” Tenzin said shortly, cutting her off. Kya sighed, it was too late to fight, and she was pretty sure he was right. _He_ had been paying attention.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Kya said. Tenzin relaxed the reigns in his hands, seemingly for the first time since they took off, but didn’t take his eyes off the city as he flew.

“What if dad doesn’t pick up? Or he can’t come?” Tenzin asked nervously. The questions had crossed Kya’s mind too.

“He will. He has to. It’s _Bumi._ ” Kya affirmed. She had no way of knowing, but if he didn’t pick up there was no other plan. So he was going to pick up. 

They were silent again for a long time, listening to the sounds of the streets below as Tenzin slowly brought them further and further down.

“I’m scared.” He said suddenly. Kya hesitated before taking her brother’s hand, pulling his focus away from flying for the first time. To her surprise, their were tears in his eyes.   
  
“Me too,” Kya said, squeezing his hand, “but… you have me, you know that right?”

That, she could promise.

“Yeah,” Tenzin said, wiping a tear from his eye as he landed his bison. They were in the park by their uncle’s apartment. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I could do this if it was just me and mom.” 

“Me neither,” Kya responded. That thought hadn’t occurred to her. Doing this, all of this, alone with her mom. She was sure her mother could do it, her mom could do anything, but Kya wasn’t sure if _she_ could.

Right before jumping off the bison, Kya felt her brother’s gentle hand on her shoulder.

“You have me too.”

_——————————————————————————————_

Aang groaned when he heard a knock at the door. It had been a long day of negotiations in the Fire Nation, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his comically large bed and fall asleep. The only person that would wake him up this late at night for _anything_ would be Zuko, who never slept. But more often then not he let himself in, opting to wake up Aang by shaking his shoulder. Aang tried to rub the fatigue from his eyes as he made his way to the door, if this had anything to do with politics it was going to be terribly difficult to be his regular polite self.

There was a servant at the door, a man Aang hadn’t met before. He looked nervous, but that didn’t worry Aang, people were often nervous around him at first. The man -Lee- was talking about the radio. Sokka. Sokka was calling him on the radio. Wait. Sokka was asking for him on the _Royal Radio_ used solely for emergencies.

Aang tried his best to stay calm as he was led through the winding halls of the Fire Nation Palace to the room where the radio was kept. Suki was already there, as was Zuko, both because the emergency line was being used, and Sokka was the one calling. The room was tense as Aang sat down and picked up the line. Suki put a comforting hand on his shoulder as they leaned in to hear the voice on the other line.  
  
“Sokka?”

  
“It’s me dad.” Aang blinked. Kya. His _daughter_ was on the other line.

  
“Kya? Why happening? Are you okay?” Aang responded. One part of him wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, while the another started coming up with a million more stories that would lead to this phone call. Suki’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“I’m fine…” Kya sounded off. Something was definitely wrong. Something was wrong with his family.   
  
“Kya, you’re scaring me a little bit.” Aang said, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.   
  
“Just tell him.” Another, quieter voice said on the other line.  
  
“Tenzin?” Aang said, bewildered. His son was with Kya. Both of his children were okay. Again, a part of him was relived. Whatever was happening in Republic City had left his children fairly unscathed. But another part, a much larger part, was still terrified. “Tell me what?” Aang was met with silence, and for a moment he thought they were gone. “Kids?”  
  
“Bumi’s missing in action.”

Aang’s froze. For a moment everything stopped. His daughter’s words echoed through his mind. Bumi was not in Republic City. Kya and Tenzin were okay because the trouble was not in Republic City. He had been worrying about the wrong kid.

“What.” Aang said finally, trying to keep it together long enough to get more information.   
  
“We got a telegram, his squadron got attacked. They said… they said to go to Red Sand Island Hospital…” Aang could hear his daughter’s voice cracking as she spoke, “but… but we don’t- we don’t know if he’s there- ” They could hear her labored breaths on the other side of the radio, as well as the gentle murmurs of an adult. Kya was hyperventilating.   
  
“Kya, sweetheart, can you take a few deep breaths for me?” Aang said, trying his best to comfort his daughter. If there was one thing that could pull him away from spiraling, it was hearing his child in pain.   
  
“… yes,” Kya responded. She and Aang took long, slow breaths together, the same way they would during morning meditation.

“Perfect, you did perfect,” he said gently, “can you put your uncle on the phone please?” They could hear some shuffling before a deeper, more steady voice filled the room.  
  
“I’m sorry, that was too much. She insisted on being the one to tell you and-” Sokka said, cutting himself off with a long, heavy sigh, “I’m so sorry Aang.”   
  
“Do we know what happened?” Aang inquired. He knew the second sorry wasn’t about Kya, but he didn’t want to accept condolences. Not yet.  
  
“No. Katara got a telegram about an hour ago. Toph and the girls were over, they’re still at the house helping her pack.” Aang’s pulse spiked. Katara. Katara got the news _alone._

“So you haven’t seen her?” He asked cautiously.  
  
“No, but I’m going back over to the island with the kids.”

“Tell her I’m leaving now. I’ll be waiting for her when she gets here.” Red Sand Island wasn’t very far from the capital, he was much closer to Bumi than the rest of his family, and that’s who needed him most.

“He’ll be okay Aang. Bumi’s strong,” Sokka added. Aang thanked him, mustering the strength to tell his children it would be okay and that he loved them, before giving the radio to Suki. The warrior wrapped Aang in a strong hug before she sat down to speak with her husband.

Aang didn’t realize Zuko had come with him until they reached his guest room. Aang didn’t have the energy to say anything, and Zuko didn’t expect him to. Together they started packing, Zuko started folding clothes as Aang collected the things off of his desk. Aang let out a frustrated sigh, his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and the documents, as pointless as they seemed now, would need to be carefully rolled. Wordlessly, Zuko handed Aang the pair of pants he had been folding, and took the letter from his hand.

Zuko walked with Aang to the stables, where Appa stayed, and helped him load his things onto the bison. After they had finished, Zuko turned to leave, but Aang grabbed his hand and pulled him into a crushing hug. They stood there for a long time, Zuko not daring to be the first one to let go, until the anxious voice in Aang’s head told him he was wasting precious time.

As he took off, he looked back at Zuko one last time. He was standing alone outside the stables, with a look of determination that echoed the phrase he’d whispered during their embrace.

_“You’ll all be okay.”_

  
  
_——————————————————————————————_

Sokka stood outside his sister’s bedroom. This was going to be hard. When his niece and nephew showed up on his doorstep, his first thought was that something had happened to Katara. He’d cursed himself for opting to sleep in his apartment, he’d only left the island a couple of hours before, after family dinner. It appeared that in that time, their lives had been through into chaos.

Sokka will be the first to admit that letting his niece tell Aang about Bumi was a terrible idea. But in his defense, he was in shock and had always had a hard time saying no to any of his nieces and nephews. When looking back, Sokka swears that if Suki hadn’t come on the line after Aang, he would have spiraled. Hearing his wife’s voice was always a comfort. As a couple that lived apart for long stretches of time, they would never take the invention of the radio for granted. Suki was always a grounding force in stressful situations, but even now he could hear she was unsteady. He promised to send her an update as soon as he could, hoping the waver in his voice got lost in the static.

When they arrived back on the island, it was well past midnight. The first thing Sokka saw when he entered the house, was Toph sitting on the couch, holding a sleeping Su in her arms. She looked worn, but much more composed than Sokka felt. Toph whispered orders to their niece and nephew, instructing them pack food in the kitchen. Neither of them protested. Sokka stood unmoving in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. He needed to find Katara.

“She’s in her room,” Toph whispered, seeming to read his mind.  
  
“Thanks,” Sokka said, “how are you?” He was not one to neglect the feelings of one younger sister over the other. Toph let out a long sigh, which caused Su to bounce slightly on her chest.

“How are any of us? This… this is terrible.” She said simply. In different circumstances, he would’ve laughed at her bluntness.

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed, “thanks for holding down the fort.” Toph smiled a sad, knowing smile.

“You never have to thank me for that Snoozles.” He knew what she was referring to. The war. She was talking about how he held their little family together that fateful year, and every year after. War was thechildhood-stealing monster ever-present in the backs of their minds, even two decades later.

Sokka dropped his bag on the couch and made his way up the stairs. He could already hear his sister shuffling on the other side of the door. He took a breath, and knocked.

“I’ll just be another minute,” a soft voice called from inside. She was trying to sound okay, together, but he could hear the crack in her voice.   
  
“It’s me,” Sokka replied, “can I come in?” There was a silence. He thought about barging in, weighing how poorly that would go with his sister, before she opened the door. Strands of hair had fallen out of it’s braid, and her eyes rimmed with red.  
  
“Sokka?” Katara said, bewildered. Before he could respond, his sister jumped into a hug, letting herself fall into his arms.They stood there for a few moments before she relaxed her grip and let him inside her room. There were clothes folded neatly on her bed for both her and Aang, ready to be placed in their pack. After over a decade of almost constant travel after the war, Katara knew how to pack neatly and quickly, even under stressful circumstances.

“I’m so so sorry,” Sokka said finally. Katara sighed, leaning against her door. There were rarely times he thought his baby sister looked _old,_ but seeing her now, grappling with all of this, he was reminded how much it could all take its toll.

“I just feel so helpless,” Katara lamented, “And stupid. And angry. And terrified.”

“I know.” Sokka said. He knew better than to deny any of her feelings. She needed to talk it out, and he would always be there to listen. The two started packing, placing Katara’s folded clothes into her bag.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want him to go!” Katara cried, shoving a shirt into the bag angirly, “but I let him! I let my baby go into a war zone.” Sokka’s heart broke. He knew, he _knew_ this was coming. He dropped the shirt he was holding and wrapped his arms around his sister.   
  
“This isn’t you’re fault Katara,” He whispered, resting his chin on the top of her head, “it isn’t.”  
  
“I can’t loose him Sokka,” Katara said through a chocked sob, “I can’t loose my son.”  
  
“You won’t.”

Sokka stood there for a long time, shouldering his sister’s grief. Later, he carefully packed the rest of the bag, giving Katara a moment collect herself before having to face her children again. When she came back into the room, she was wearing real clothes and had rebraided her hair. Sokka handed his sister her bag, mentioning, “we radioed Aang at my house, he’ll be waiting for us when we get there.” Katara visibly brightened at the mention of her husband.   
  
“Thank you,” she said, taking the pack, “Wait… ‘us?’”   
  
“I’m coming too,” Sokka assured, “if you want me too.” Katara smiled.

Long ago, Sokka made a promise, and he had never gone back on it. No matter what, they would never truly be alone. Not if they had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well there's that! I promise we will actually meet Bumi soon, there's been a lot of "waiting"/painful scenes but it'll all be worth it I promise. and more flashbacks! I gotta lot of ideas dont you worry. 
> 
> thanks so much for reading, im really enjoying this.
> 
> the next chapter should be out pretty soon!


	3. open your eyes (make it last forever)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang makes it to the hospital, Katara's starting her own journey, and Bumi's state is revealed. 
> 
> (also Aang swears once in this chapter, but this tired guy deserves to)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh here it is! Sorry this chapter is so late, the next one will be coming MUCH sooner :) 
> 
> I really love writing these characters and relationships, I'm looking forward to exploring everything more! 
> 
> Also I've decided to hop just a little bit on the "every nation has it's own language (with dialect variations) but they all also speak in one universal language" train bc its really interesting- especially writing kids from two cultures! 
> 
> let me know what you think, thanks so so much for reading :)
> 
> ALSO ages, bc it distracts me when I read things otherwise haha: Bumi: 19, Kya: 16, Tenzin: 13, Lin: 13, Su: 6, Izumi: 18

_“When you open you’re eyes, I feel alive… Make it last forever.”_

Somewhere Above the Fire Nation, Present

Aang knew grief like an old friend. In his youth, it had been painful to grapple with the idea that the Air Nomads were gone, that he was truly alone. He knew deep down that no matter what he did, that weight on his shoulders was so heavy it would follow him into his next life. Spirits help his successor.

But this time, it was different. This was new. The emptiness that often accompanied the pit in Aang’s stomach was replaced with something sickening. His body rejected the possibility of Bumi’s death like poison. It wasn’t real. He had to be alive.

From the moment Bumi was born he made history. He was the first person born with recorded Air Nomad lineage in 107 years, the first son born to an Avatar in nearly 400, and the first mixed baby born in the South Pole in remembered history. Aang knew the world could give the baby as many titles as they wanted, it wouldn’t stop him from loving the first with his entire heart: Bumi, son of Katara and Aang. Bumi was their baby.

Everyone had _opinions_ that were at best, invasive and at worst, racist about their son and his abilities. Aang knew after three months with his child that Bumi wouldn’t bend like him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have a sliver of hope when they found out Katara was pregnant, but once the baby was born it didn’t matter. There was absolutely nothing that would ever make Aang disappointed in his son. Bumi was their baby.

Aang rubbed his finger over Appa’s reigns, finding the two small indentations on his first try. He could still remember Katara’s face when they realized their son was teething, it was the one of their first big milestones, and it happened thousands of feet off the ground.

Bumi was born into a different world than his siblings. His world was healing, and constantly needed his parents. Taking Bumi with them on their travels always felt like a terrible idea, but leaving him in the care of anyone other than family was unthinkable. Bumi’s first memories were all across the map. Now, nearly two decades later, Aang could still feel the the weight of Bumi in his lap as they flew around the world. Everywhere he turned he saw him. He had quite literally, left his mark on the sky. Bumi was their baby.

The hour long journey from the palace to Red Sand Island was the longest flight Aang had ever taken. Time was moving too slowly. When he finally spotted the small, twinkling town from his place on Appa, it took everything in him not to leap off the bison and glide down to the hospital. A younger Aang would have done it, but he knew better than to leave the sky bison to land himself in an unsuspecting village. Appa, who could sense Aang’s mounting anxiety, grumbled at his companion.

“Sorry buddy, I know it’s late,” Aang sighed, eyes fixed on the town below, “we’ll be there soon.”

Once Aang settled Appa in the woods on the coast, he raced to the center of town. From his memory the hospital was one street off the square.The sound of Aang’s steps echoed through the once quiet streets. While the city was fast asleep, the hospital was wide awake. Even from the outside Aang could hear the scuffle of doctors and nurses. Because of its association with the military, the hospital had access to high end electric lights, it was practically glowing. Aang could hear his heart beating in his ears as he asked the front desk about his son.

 _He’s here,_ he told himself. The nurse checked her files.

_He’s here._

She frowned. Aang gripped the desk, his knees threatening to buckle.

_He’s here. He’s here. He’s here._

The nurse, noticing Aang's terror, calmly noted that there were some patients they had been unable to properly identify, and that she could show him their rooms. Together they ventured further into the small hospital. Aang ignored the patients, doctors, and nurses who all gawked at his presence. There were five soldiers brought in with Bumi’s division that they could not identify. The first four rooms had men -boys- Aang had never seen before. Each time the closed a door, Aang felt himself get one step closer to his breaking point. _Not yet,_ he told himself, _he needs you._

When they go to the final door, the nurse stepped back and gave Aang a moment. There was a mutual understanding. Everyone knew what missing in action meant. If Bumi wasn’t behind this door, Bumi was gone. Aang took a breath. He slid the panel open and stepped inside, his eyes fell immediately on the single bed and the boy sleeping in it.

_He’s here._

Aang collapsed at the side of his son’s bed, relief washing over his body. Bumi was both better and worse than he was expecting. He was shirtless, with bandages covering most of his torso, his right arm, left leg and a large gash on the side of his head. At some point the nurse asked him a list of questions, officially confirming the identity of the patient, but Aang never took his eyes off of Bumi. He wanted to hold him, to pick him up and never let go.

After the nurse left, Aang chastised himself for not asking what happened. He wanted to know everything, but at the same time he was content sitting here with him. Aang knew they had time. He ran a gentle hand over his son’s bruised face.

“I’m here Bumi. Dad’s here.”

  
_——————————————————————————————_

Katara’s sky bison ride was a lot like her husband’s, filled with the same dread and questions and prayers. Her two youngest children refused sleep, both sitting on Oogi’s head while Tenzin steered. They clung to each other uncharacteristically, as if being any further apart would cause the other to disappear. Sokka finally coaxed them back to the saddle after several hours of flying with the promise of snacks and sleep making the ride feel shorter. He was met with eye rolls and protests that they were _not_ little kids, but still, they obliged.

To anyone else, sleeping on a sky bison would seem near impossible, but for Tenzin and Kya it was as much a home as Air Temple Island. While far less frequently than their brother, they both grew up traveling the world with their parents, which often involved long nights on Appa. As children, the three siblings slept together under the same blanket. Bumi was always on the left, Kya on the right squished next to their supplies, and baby Tenzin in the middle so he wouldn’t fall out. This time however, Tenzin and Kya slept at the front, neither bearing to turn over and see an empty blank space.

Katara took their place on Oogi’s head, not breaking eye contact with the horizon. She was trying her best to act normal for her children, but she could tell it wasn’t working. It was better just to be quiet. Katara was so lost in thought, she didn’t realize her brother had climbed to the front until he was sitting beside her.

“I think the kids are asleep,” Sokka whispered.  
  
“That’s good,” Katara sighed, “it’s going to be a busy day.”

“You should think about getting some rest too,” Sokka coaxed, “I can take over.”  
  
“I’m fine.” Katara said curtly. She wasn’t, but every second she not spent doing _something_ to get closer to her son was a second she spent dreading the outcome of their arrival.  
  
“I know you are,” Sokka started, placing a hand over his sister’s on the reigns, “but let’s be realistic. These next few days are going to be… intense. And your kids, all of them, will need you and you’re going to help them so… please, do this for me and get some sleep.” Katara was ready to fight her brother, but when she saw the worry in his face, she caved. 

“Wake me the second you see Yen City.”

  
_——————————————————————————————_

Republic City, 17 Years Earlier

Aang was late. Zuko wasn’t surprised per say, he and Katara often got caught up solving the small problems of every town they stopped in, but his tardiness never failed to concern the young Fire Lord. He was about to send for a messenger (or search party) when a haggard Aang burst into the meeting room holding his chaos-inducing son in one arm and an overflowing pack in the other. Bumi was trying profusely to climb out of his father’s arms, switching from what Zuko could decipher as a Water Tribe dialect and an (almost lost) Air Nomad language as he spoke to his father. Aang muttered back a reply in the Air nomad language as he sat in his seat with a huff, Bumi still in his lap.

“Sorry I’m late, getting Bumi settled is… a task,” Aang said, already looking over the scrolls splayed across the table between them, “how far did you get?” Zuko stared at his friend. Aang’s robes had a number of stains on them, which he could only assume were from Bumi, and the bags under his eyes weremore pronounced than he had seen in years.

“Where’s Katara?” Zuko asked, it was all he could muster. The plan had been for Katara _and_ Aang to come to Republic City, as they rarely traveled apart and could balance the care of their rambunctious child.  
  
“She’s still in Ba Sing Se,” Aang said, reading over the scrolls while trying to distract Bumi with the supplies in their pack. “The hospital system in the lower ring is under major reform and she’s helping oversee the last wave of changes. She’ll be here in a couple of days but for now, it’s just me and Bumi,” he added, placing a kiss on his son’s cheek.

“But you came here?”  
  
“If we don’t draft these tonight, we’ll be dealing with a civil war,” Aang said gesturing to the scrolls in front of him. There had been a growing unrest in the colonies closest to the Fire Nation, and when Zuko caught wind that there was talk of a revolt, he called Aang and Katara to help him problem solve and create a treaty. Sokka was set to arrive and provide insight the next day, but it was a time sensitive issue and not a second could be wasted.

“And you brought Bumi.” Zuko questioned. One side of him thought that this was a terrible idea as they would be in meetings all week and Bumi was not the most well behaved child. The other side of him however, the _dad_ side, yearned for his own baby girl and was, quite frankly, jealous. Aang chuckled, looking up from his work.

“Hey you’re the one that always asks about our ‘work-life balance,’ this,” Aang said, gesturing to the baby on his lap scribbling on a blank scroll, “is it. It’s not perfect but it works.” Satisfied, Zuko and Aang worked in a comfortable silence, Bumi content with the “task” his dad had given him. Zuko glanced up at his friend after a moment, and realized Aang had been doing his son’s hair as he read through the drafts. Bumi’s hair was different from anyone else’s he knew. Zuko had never known Aang with hair, but those who had insisted that Bumi’s was the exact same. Zuko privately thought it was humorous that one of the only Air Nomad characteristics Bumi had was the one most air benders would never actually express, but he kept it to himself.

“How do you know how to do hair?” Zuko asked.

“What do you mean?” Aang said, his hands weaved through a seemingly practiced routine.  
  
“You don’t have any,” Zuko said matter-o-factly. Aang snickered.  
  
“I don’t but the sisters did,” he responded, still skimming the proposals. Zuko blanched.  
  
“You… had sisters?” Zuko asked carefully. Despite learning everything he possibly could about the Air Nomads after his banishment, and even more after befriending Aang, there were still times where his friend mentioned something completely new or, most often, contradictory to what he’d been taught. Aang paused, looking up from his work to meet his friend’s eyes.  
  
“Oh. That was a poor choice of words,” Aang said, running a free hand over his bald head, “ _The_ sisters, the nuns… the people who helped raise me? They had long hair. We used to visit the Eastern Air Temple and it just sort of… stuck,” Aang smiled at his work, adding, “plus I married into the Southern Water Tribe, knowing how to braid is kind of apart of that.” Aang and Katara had not cut Bumi’s hair yet, growing it out in line with the Water Tribe’s customs. Zuko had always assumed that when it was styled, it had been Katara that braided her son’s hair.He cursed himselfinwardly for the question in the first place.

 _Agni,_ Zuko thought, _why would he possibly mean actual sisters? I should check on Azula._

 _“_ You can braid right?” Aang asked, moving to a different section of Bumi’s head, “Kiyi's hair always looks so good when she visits.” Zuko smiled at the mention of his youngest sister. She, along with their mother and his step-father, were still living in the village of Hira’a, but came to the palace often. Their visits usually overlapped with one of the gang’s meaning Kiyi had gained not only two older siblings, but a plethora of aunts and uncles.

“I can, but mostly it’s Ty Lee who braids her hair, she’s really good.” Zuko corrected, “I want to get better at it so I can do Izumi’s hair.”

“I bet she’ll really like that,” Aang said sincerely, “doing Boom’s has been really nice for both me and Katara. Hair is really important to her culture and it’s a way I get to connect back to mine.” Aang finished his son’s hair and pressed a kiss on the top of his head before returning to his work. Bumi’s hair was in tight braids close to his scalp, which Zuko could only assume was to help make nuns more streamlined as they flew through the air over one hundred years ago. Not long after they started working again, Bumi started fussing, whining in two languages. Zuko picked up on the phrases said in the Water Tribe language, but was lost when the toddler spoke in the other.Zuko, unsure of what to do, started distracting Bumi with his bending.

“I know you said it was a balance,” Zuko said, tossing a small flame between his hands as Aang rummaged through his bag for another, more long term solution to Bumi’s fussing, “but I have to admit it’s hard to picture Katara just letting you leave with him.”

“Believe me, it was not our best conversation.” He replied, almost annoyed.  
  
“What changed things?” Zuko asked, still tossing the fire between his hands. They could both tell he was loosing Bumi’s interest, and he tried a different trick, hoping to by Aang time to find a different toy.

“She realized it was unrealistic,” Aang huffed, dumping the contents of his bag on the table, “working full time and taking care of Bumi by herself, of course there’s nannies but… he’s such an energetic kid it can get intense.” As if to prove his point, Bumi started to cry, calling out in the universal dialect, the language Zuko _could_ understand, for his pacifier. Together they began looking through Aang’s pile of clothes, scrolls, and other baby items.  
  
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Zuko questioned, “working and taking care of him?”

“Yeah but I’m not pregnant.”

Aang froze. He was not supposed to say that. Zuko, who had just found the pacifier, slowly gave it to Bumi, who was blissfully unaware of the present events.  
  
“Fuck.” Aang groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose before belatedly covering his sons ears,“forget I said that, you didn’t hear that.”

“Aang-”  
  
“Forget I said anything, nothing was said” Aang rambled exhaustedly, cutting him off.  
  
“Aang-”

“We found out weeks ago,” Aang continued, running a hand over his head absentmindedly, “it’s still so early and we were going to wait to tell people and…ugh” he groaned, leaning back in his chair.

“Congratulations.” Zuko said finally, before adding, “I won’t tell anyone.”  
  
“Thanks,” Aang said, sitting up in his chair, “I’m actually really excited.” Zuko stared at his friend, who was practically beaming despite his obvious fatigue. Aang was _destined_ to be many things in life, but Zuko knew in this moment, that being a father was one of them.

“How are you two doing?” Zuko asked.

“Good… kind of? It’s been pretty hard on Katara, harder than with Bumi, which is why he’s here with me while she keeps working.” Aang grimaced,“I think she knows she’s going to have to stop sooner, working and doing things normally, so she wants to help as much as she can before then.”

“Remind me to send you some of the teas Mai drank when she was pregnant, she said those really helped,” Zuko offered. Mai’s pregnancy had been difficult from the first month to the last, and they tried nearly everything to help ease the discomfort.

“Thanks, I’m sure Katara will be really happy with that,” Aang said, smiling. Bumi, now drifting off, curled further into his dad, causing Aang to wrap the outer piece of his robe around the toddler as both a blanket and support.

“I didn’t realize you guys were planning on having another kid so soon,” Zuko whispered, “it will be nice to have Bumi, Izumi, and the baby all so close in age.”

“We were kind of… this was a surprise,” Aang chuckled nervously, adding quickly, “but we couldn’t be happier. I’m really glad they’ll all be close too. Growing up with kids around my age, that was really special.” Aang looked down at the bundle in his arms. “It’s nice to know he’ll never be alone.”

  
  
_——————————————————————————————_

_  
_ Red Island Hospital, Present

Bumi’s room was cold. His bed was in the center of the room, with an empty bedside table on the right and a small window on the left, which was left shut at night. A chair was brought in for Aang after he arrived, the nurse from the front desk apologized profusely for not being able to find a cot for the _Avatar_ , but Aang didn’t mind. He would have slept on the floor if it meant being with his son.

Aang awoke to the sound of their door sliding open. A nurse, a new nurse, came in carrying a tray of tools and medicine, which they set on the bedside table.  
  
“Apologies for waking you up Avatar Aang,” The nurse said gently,“ I’m Hiro, your son’s nurse.” Hiro was a lean young man, Aang estimated just a handful of year’s older than his son.  
  
“It’s no trouble, I didn’t realize I fell asleep,” Aang responded, glancing to the still-shut window, “what at time is it?”  
  
“It’s just after four in the moring.” Hiro said, preparing his equipment, explaining,“because of his head injuries your son needs to be woken up every two hours to be monitored and take medication.”

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Aang questioned.

“To get a full description of his injuries I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait until his doctor, Dr. Niko, who will be checking in at nine.” Hiro frowned, “have you been able to discuss your son’s condition at all with any of our nurses yet?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t gotten the chance,” Aang sighed, cursing himself again for his mistake. _Katara would have._

“Your son has suffered head trauma, in addition to the physical injury, there have been severe side effects, indicating possible damage to the brain.” Hiro hesitated, adding, “but there is still a lot we don’t know yet.”  
  
Head trauma. Head. Trauma. For the millionth time, he wished his wife was here, not only would she be able to start healing Bumi, but she would know all the medical jargon, all the pills, and all the right questions to ask. She was the perfect mom, the perfect parent to have in crisis. He knew it would take at least a full days journey, he wouldn’t see his wife until dinner at the earliest, which meant he was all Bumi had. _Bumi._

Aang hadn’t seen his child in months. The teenager had been on his longest naval tour thus far, connecting with his family only through letters written home every few weeks detailing all of his adventures.Even under the dim hospital lights, he could see the wear of sea life on his son. He looked even more like his mother’s family than he did before, not only in his darker completion but his overall appearance. Bumi’s hair had grown longer at sea, the braids in the front were adorned with both yellow and blue beads, much to his father’s brief amusement.

When he left on his tour, Aang couldn’t have been more proud. Bumi was more happy, more _fulfilled,_ than he had been in a long time. What had the sea done to his baby?

Aang was pulled from his trance by Hiro clearing his throat softly.  
  
“I’m going to wake him up now, he’s going to be a bit disoriented,” Hiro said, holding a set of smelling salts in his hands.  
  
“Oh… okay,” Aang stammered. He waited impatiently as Hiro raised the smelling salt to Bumi’s nose to wake him from his medicated sleep. Bumi groaned and shifted in his bed, wincing as he moved. Aang moved closer, squeezing his sons hand and bringing himself into his limited field of vision.

“… Dad?” Bumi murmured. Aang wrapped his hand’s tighter around his son’s and leaned in closer.

“Hi Bumi,” Aang started, “I’m here. I’m right here.” Hiro cleared his throat again, alerting his presence to the disoriented teenager. Bumi gripped Aang’s hand tighter at the sound.

“Hello, I’m Hiro,” he said kindly, “I’m here to check in and make sure your still healing well, okay?”

“… okay,” Bumi responded, dazed.

“Have you been dizzy at all? Nauseas?” Hiro said, reading questions from a sheet of paper he had brought in with the medicine.  
  
“… yes.”

They went through a series of questions that left Aang feelinghopelessly lost. When Hiro finished his questionnaire, he checked Bumi’s heart, temperature, and bandages, noting that they wouldn’t be changed until later in the day.

At the end of the assessment, he had Bumi take the four different types of medicine, which he nearly threw back up, before leaving with the promise of being back in another two hours. Hiro explained to Aang that one of the mixtures was a fairly intense pain medication, which would inevitably pull Bumi back into a dreamlike state. Once they were alone, Bumi’s attention was drawn back to his father.  
  
“Oh hi dad,” Bumi said spacily. Aang chuckled, it was clear the effects of the pain medicine were already taking over.  
  
“Hey Bumi.” Aang sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees.  
  
“Where’s mom?” Bumi said, furrowing his brows.  
  
“She’ll be here soon,” Aang responded. Though it wasn’t entirely a lie, he didn’t want to risk worrying his son.  
  
“Oh okay,” Bumi said, relaxing again. “That’s good. I miss mom.”  
  
“Me too kiddo.”

“And ’Zumi,” Bumi added.  
  
“What.”  
  
“She’s… she’s the best,” Bumi said smiling.  
  
“Oh…” Aang said, laughing inwardly, “well I’m sure you’ll see her soon too.” This pain medication was no joke. His relationship with the Fire Nation Princess was complex, and not something a more alert Bumi would discuss with his father. Aang was never entirely sure if his son was dating her, or if they were just friends. 

“Good.” Bumi said, drifting off.  
  
“Yeah buddy,” Aang said, taking his hand again, “really good.”

And that was the routine. Every two hours Nurse Hiro woke Bumi up, asked him questions, routinely checked his injuries, and gave him more medication that prompted a half lucid conversation between him and his father. However, after their second conversation, Aang wasn’t sure if it was the pills or a lack of sleep that prompted his son’s delirium.  
  
At 9 AM, Doctor Niko came in and explained to Aang in painful detail all the things that were wrong with his son. Aang wanted to pass out. Over half of his squadron had been brought in the morning before in critical condition, and many of them were unable to give their names or badge number. The hospital was anticipating an influx of families, and had been preparing a second release of information, but Aang was the first parent to arrive. At the end of her visit, Dr. Niko gave Bumi a stimulant, instructing him to stay awake and eat, which gave Aang the opportunity to really talk to his son for the first time.

“How are you feeling?” Aang started.

“… peachy.” Bumi said, flashing a crooked grin. Aang forced a chuckle, he supposed it was good he was joking, it was the most like _himself,_ Bumi had been since Aang arrived. They sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence as Aang tried to collect his thoughts. He was unsure of how to start this conversation with his son. Aang had many questions about what happened, but he didn’t want to rush him. It was best to start small.

“The doctor said you weren’t giving your name when came in,” Aang started, trying his best not to sound as anxious as he felt, “can I ask why?”

“Oh… it’s… it’s basic UF protocol,” Bumi said, hoping that would be a sufficient answer. Aang raised an eyebrow.“I wasn’t… I was unconscious when I was brought here, so I didn’t really know where I was, who could get my name. You’re not supposed to give information until you can guarantee you’re safe,” Bumi paused, adding, “I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize,” Aang said quickly, “I’m glad you were keeping yourself safe. I was just really worried about you buddy. ”

Bumi opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the door sliding open. A cheery hospital staff member came in with a cart carrying a tray of jook and ham. Bumi didn’t have much strength, so Aang wordlessly helped prop him up and started preparing bites that Bumi could gingerly lift to his mouth. He had seen Katara do this for her own patients, himself included, and he knew being able to feed yourself made you feel just a bit better. It surprised him when Bumi started to flick the pieces of ham off his spoon.

“Not a fan of the ham?” Aang questioned gently.

“I’m… I’m not eating meat.”  
  
“Oh yeah?”  
  
“Yeah…” Bumi started, not making eye contact, “I started missing home so…”

“Oh. That’s-that’s great Boom.”Aang said tentatively.

All of his children had been raised eating meat. He and Katara decided that until they could establish a sedentary residence in a place that had an abundance of healthy, nutritious vegetarian foods, their kids would need the protein. When they finally found their way to Air Temple Island, Bumi and Kya had grown too accustomed. When Tenzin switched to a vegetarian diet at ten, Aang asked his other children if they wanted to switch as well. This spiraled into a rather difficult conversation between him and his eldest. Bumi blew up, declaring he wasn’t an air bender _or_ and actolyte and how that was _all_ his father cared about. It broke Aang’s heart, but he understood.

From the moment their two oldest children were born, rude speculations and rumors began to circulate, the loudest being that they weren’t his children. Others that _did_ believe they were his advised that they should be cast aside because they didn’t have _“his genes.”_ When Tenzin was born, the comments only worsened. It didn’t help that the baby, the only air bender, was the child that closest resembled their father. While Aang and Katara tried to keep all of this as far from their children as possible, some of it inevitably slipped through. As he got older, Bumi drifted from his Air nomad lineage, associating it with trying to be something he just _wasn’t._ The world would hate him if he tried and hate him if he didn’t. So he didn’t. Until now. He became a vegetarian, because he missed _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well there it is!! I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> I was thinking recently about Aang and Katara and their kids, and how in a lot of ways Aang's job would keep him busy, but when he wasn't doing Avatar things he would just... be free? Between the two of them, I can only imagine Katara's job is more "9 to 5" restrictive, meaning that at times it probably made more sense for the kids to be with Aang than with her if they were traveling separate ways, especially at first?? Idk the more "balanced" parenting style with them just makes sense to me. I don't see Katara as someone who would just give up her passion and helping people, and I don't see Aang as someone who would make/want her to. 
> 
> That being said, I don't think they usually parted ways, I think that separating Katara from one of her babies is like pulling teeth, it's always really hard for everyone. 
> 
> ALSO As a mixed kid, I thought it was a little disappointing they didn't explore that more in LOK, especially when they had Mako and Bolin RIGHT THERE in addition to the Cloud Babies, but I digress. It's something I really want to explore in this fic, so look forward to more of that :) 
> 
> thank you so much for reading, feel free to let me know what you think! I'm open to any and all comments, critique, ideas, etc :)


	4. as the world caves in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumi's turn. 
> 
> His story, the night it all came crashing down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! December was absolutely wack for me, like it was for a lot of people, so I didn't get to writing as much but now I am back to my regular goal of striving to post once a week (or once every two)! 
> 
> I love these characters so much :) I hope you enjoy!

United Forces Naval Ship, Squadron 5522, Two Days Earlier

Even though he couldn’t quite remember how it ended, Bumi would remember how it started for the rest of his life. It was a cool night, he was stationed on the right side of the lower deck with two other privates, Mei and Han, who both had been in his class at bootcamp. Their ship was on its regular course, and they were to reach their destination in a few short hours. At this point in his career, Bumi had only been in a handful of skirmishes with pirates and, even less often, those who _still_ opposed the emancipation of the United Republic from the Fire Nation. This particular mission however, was supposed to be routine. Orginally sprung from the Harmony Restoration Movement, the UF gave continuous support and supplies to the impoverished regions of the Republic to care for their citizens and maintain peace. Newer recruits like Bumi would restock hospitals, distribute food and visit schools. It would be a normal mission, no need for stress or worry.

Bumi yawned as he gazed out onto the ocean, it was so dark he could barely make out the horizon line. He, Han, and Mei had been on duty for most of the night, trading stories and playing the occasional game of truth or dare to keep themselves awake. Bumi was about to jump into a particularly humorous (and mildly embarrassing) tale about elephant koi when another officer turned the corner. They all stopped talking and straightened. Even from afar they could tell the man was walking with the gravitas of a superior. The officer did not meet their gaze when he passed, and normally Bumi wouldn’t have thought anything of it, some of the younger high ranking officials had what some would call a superiority complex, but something was off. As the man walked by, the air warmed, ever so slightly.

Bumi was from a bender heavy family. He knew bending was tied to emotion, so much so that at times it could become slightly uncontrollable. If a person wasn’t channeling their bending correctly, it could literally exude from them, seep into the world and demand to be known. Bumi was also only a second year officer, meaning he was not a stranger to filing and attendance. He knew the exact number of benders and non-benders on the ship. There were only twenty fire benders, and their division was not on watch tonight. Something was wrong.

“Excuse me,” Bumi called out, the man kept walking. “Sir-hey!” Bumi watched as the man broke into a full blown sprint. There was a second ofhesitation before he spoke again.“Sound the alarm.”  
  
Bumi, Mei, and Han all ran in different directions. Han went to ring the bell, Mei below deck to get the commanding officers, and Bumi took off after the man. Bumi was fast, and even with a significant head start, he was on the man’s tail in no time. He reached out to grab the rim of his collar, but before he could grab it he caught a blow on his side and fell to the floor. There was another figure. Bumi hit the ground hard, but before he could think he was being picked up again and slammed against the railing of the ship. It was another invader. The man currently holding him was bigger than the slender fire bender Bumi had been chasing. His broad shoulders and wider set features indicated to Bumi he was probably an earth bender, but whether or not he could bend metal was the real question. From his position on the railing, Bumi saw as the fire bender open one of the steel doors and disappear into the ship. Suddenly, dozens of hooks whirred past Bumi, wrapping around the railing. Below, figures began scaling the side of the ship. This was a full fledged attack.

Bumi was still pinned, watching the invaders below, when he felt a searing pain. One of the hooks had caught his arm, pinning it between the railing and the rope. He was trapped. The man holding him took this as an opportunity, and with a sickening grin released his hold to follow his conspirator into the ship.

Bumi was left alone on the side of the ship, with the weight of impending doom hanging heavy. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as picked himself off the ground, gripping the railing for dear life with his free hand. He had a choice: either hope help arrives before the invaders scale the ship and kill him, or find a way to dislodge his arm from its hook-rope prison. The alarm blared, but the terrorists kept climbing. By the time any more officers got to him, they would already be on board. Bumi guessed there was about a forty-five second window to follow through on his decision before his fate was sealed. He tried pulling his arm out of the hold, but it only succeeded in further ripping his sleeve. Thirty seconds. He could feel the pressure of the person climbing below getting stronger as the rope dug further into his arm. He groped for a weapon, his throwing knives, truncheon, anything- but the earth bender had taken both. Twenty seconds. In a moment of panic, he fell to the ground, wincing at the sharp pang of pain from as the arm above him was pulled tighter and tighter against rail. Fifteen seconds. Bumi gritted his teeth, throwing all of his weight back and kicking the hook with as much force as he could muster from the awkward angle. After a few swift kicks, he managed to loosen the hook’s grip on his arm and pull it free, ignoring the sound of a body hitting the water below him.

Bumi pulled himself to his feet, pretending not to notice the red stains covering his tattered coat sleeve. Despite his mother being a healer, he had never been good with blood. He ran to the front of the ship, hoping to find the rest of his unit, but was met chaos. The officers and attackers were in full fledged battle. Fire, earth, and metal flew through the air from both sides, and Bumi knew things would only get worse. The ship’s numbers far outnumbered those of the attackers, but with the element of surprise on a ship primarily harboring first and second year officers, a coordinated attack of this scale would be detrimental.  
  
As discretely as possible, Bumi raced into the heart of the ship where the other officers were gearing up to join the fight. In the artillery room, Bumi ran into Mei, who was gathering smoke grenades to bring back up. She was always more akin to far-range weapons. Little was said between the officers as they rushed in and out of the room, and Mei and Bumi gave each other a small nod before he started gathering more throwing knives, albeit slower than he would like. Mei, Han, and Bumi had met during bootcamp, as one of very few non-benders in their class of cadets, they grew to be some of his closest friends. Mei was warm and thoughtful, but tough as nails. She reminded Bumi a lot of his aunt Suki, much to her delight. He was reminded again of her compassionate nature when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You’re bleeding.” Mei said, already grabbing bandages from the safety pack that sat in every room of the ship.

“I’m fine,” Bumi responded, trying his best to concentrate on gathering his supplies. He hadn’t done anything to the wound, he could do that after this was done. Treating his arm also meant having to think about what just happened, what _was_ happening, and Bumi didn’t like to do that. Thinking about things like that was never his strong suit. He could deal with it all in other ways, he always had. Some of the other officers had glanced at his arm in the rush, but none had stopped, there was an unspoken consensus that there was just no time for a non-fatal wound. No one had time apparently, except Mei. Wordlessly, she cut the rest of his sleeve off of the uniform, and hastily poured disinfectant over the wound before quickly, but methodically, laying the bandages over his arm.  
  
“Thank you,” Bumi said as Mei finished went back to her pack. He wanted to say more, tell her about what a good friend she was. He wanted to say again how much he valued every late night talk, the lighter ones, over girls and social drama, and the deeper ones, about family and life. He wanted to find Han and say it to him too. But now is not the time, they will always have after.

“Anytime. Be safe, remember we trained for this.” Mei responded picking up her supplies and heading to the door. She turned, adding, “don’t do anything stupid. ”

Bumi flashed her a crooked grin that silently said, _no promises._ It was clear she wanted to do more for his arm, and say more too, but the sounds of fighting above had a stronger pull. Bumi returned to his task smiling, but the warmth soon passed as he heard another blast from above. Quickly, he gathered the rest of his throwing knives and went to face the music.

Things above deck were grim, it was still anybody’s guess which side would win the skirmish, and what winning would even mean for the people attacking them. Bumi was skilled with a number of weapons, but his personal favorite, aside from a Jian sword or a boomeraang (which were less regularly stocked on a naval vessel), were throwing knives. They were perfect for both offensive and defensive battle. He was doing fairly well fending off the attackers that came at him, even with one arm’s aim being slightly less accurate (he had never been more grateful to be ambidextrous), when he noticed a light in the command center. The command center, where not only the ship was controlled, but all messages were sent and delivered, was a large room at the top of the ship, with windows on all sides. Currently, there was a man standing in the center holding a small flame. Even though he could not make out his face from the deck of the ship, Bumi knew in his gut that it was the same man he had chased when this all began. If just one of the attackers escaped with the information in the control room, all the access codes and communications with every other United Forces ship, there was no telling the damage that could be done.

The battle had started to slow down, with more United Forces officers joining the fray, there numbers would soon overpower the attackers, but the man had to be stopped. Bumi raced back into the ship and up the ladder. He realized then that he should have called for more back up than merely shouting to those around him of his pursuit, but he was never one to look before he leaped.  
  
As soon as he entered the control room, he was met with fire. Bumi managed to dodge some of the blasts, but he knew those he could not were doing more than singing his clothes. When the adrenaline wore off, he was going to be in a new world of pain, but that was something future Bumi had to deal with. In between the flurries of fire, he managed to strike the man with one of his knives, momentarily disarming him. Bumi took the opportunity. Without hesitation, he launched himself at the man, and the full force of his body sent them both flying through the window and landing on the deck, several meters below.

Bumi wasn’t sure how long he was unconscious, but he would be told later that at the same time, on the other end of the ship, several bombs had gone off. It was a last ditch effort from the group of terrorists, giving context as to why he woke upon the lower deck in a sea of fire and debris after leaving a winning battle. Bumi tried to pull himself up, but the throbbing pain in his head forced him back down. He took a mental assessment of his situation: he couldn’t walk, his arm was still in pretty bad shape, and he was pretty sure the gash in his chest was deeper than a surface wound. Bumi could faintly remember the burning pain he felt while falling, how the man had shifted in their flight to press a fist onto his chest. But all of that was over now, and he was laying on a burning ship in the middle of the ocean. There were people around him, voices, but he couldn’t tell if they were his friends or his foes. He couldn’t tell much of anything, except that the ship would probably sink, and he just crashed through the only communication center.

 _Okay._ Bumi thought, _I’m going to die here._

He was trained for this. Even before the academy there was always a chance. Bumi could count the number of times he thought that maybe, he was going to die. There was the time he tried swimming in Yue Bay alone, his first ride on Druk, and the handful of times his parent’s lives put him in harms way. Those were the times, looking back, where he felt he had the least control. He was merely a pai sho tile in the game of evil vs. good, change vs. stagnation, his family vs. the world.

But even still, he had never been this scared. There was always someone to catch him, to fish him out of the bay and hold him until all his troubles melted away. But not this time.

Bumi could feel his consciousness slipping away, knowing that probably, he wasn’t going to wake up. In what he thought would be his final moment, he thought of his mom. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks as he pictured her hearing the news. She would be sad, he thought. But she would be okay. They all would. They all would have to be okay. There was always a chance, with every one of them, and he was always her boy that wouldn’t look before he leaped.

_I’m sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well here's this! ending on kinda a dark note (there is a lot he needs to process) but our boy got his chapter!
> 
> while writing I realized I wanted Bumi's accident to be told as a standalone, completely in the moment instead of being told in the "present." we haven't heard from him at all yet in this, but this is still also his story ! 
> 
> I'm planning on posting the next (longer) chapter in the next day or so, but I wanted to get this out there bc I've been gone for a moment haha 
> 
> (also if you caught it, yes Mei is an OC and Bumi's queer nonbending bff bc everyone needs one, especially bumi he is a lovable mess)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! as always im open to any and all comments, ideas, critiques :)


	5. eternally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumi's still hurt, more sibling stuff, and some hardcore mama-son moments :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I leaned a little heavy on the "or so" from "in a day or so" for this update, but it is the longest and one of my favorite chapters so I really hope you enjoy!! 
> 
> also: dialogue in < and > means that it is being spoken in either the Air Nation or Water Tribe dialect, and I try to make that clear but I just wanted to say it here again. this was just a choice I made, I may change it up or use actual languages that aren't English, but rn this is what's up. 
> 
> itty bitty tw: there's NOT a mention of blood, but he does have some wounds although it's not graphic dw, also brief mention of throw up, and uno swear word bc Katara deserves it
> 
> also the quote is Adele, Sweetest Devotion and I own none of these characters
> 
> hope you like it :) thanks in advance for reading

_"You will only be eternally, the one that I belong to"_

Fire Nation Palace, 16 Years Earlier

Katara awoke with a start after hearing the faint cries of her son in the next room. She groaned, gingerly tossing her feet over the edge of the bed, ignoring the ache of her back as she heaved herself up. Rooms in the Fire Nation Palace always felt just a little too big, and the walk to the dresser always felt just a little too long. Katara always placed a protective hand over her growing belly out of fear of knocking into the gold-plated bureau, despite having practiced this midnight walk nearly every night of their stay. There she found the candle in the same spot as yesterday, and brought a warm light to the room she shared with her husband. Aang, always the heavy sleeper, was still snoring in the same position she left him in.

Just like every child did in the South Pole, Bumi used to sleep between his parents. For both Katara and Aang, it was important to for their children to know and practice their cultures, especially since they weren’t living in their home nations. Aang didn’t have many practices for a baby, and none to do between parent and child, so there had been little need to compromise on thus far. Even though there was no practical need for the toddler to sleep between Aang and Katara, it made them feel better.

Katara had worked at enough hospitals to know that with parenthood came natural (and oftenirrational) fears, but she was not prepared for the onslaught of personal anxieties that crashed down the moment she found out she was pregnant. Her worries only worsened when Bumi was first placed in her arms. Katara never wanted to let go. The first time they had to leave their son in the capable hands of his grandfather, she couldn’t sleep the entire time away. She had said goodbye to too many people she loved without the assurance of reuniting.

Needless to say, Katara would’ve kept her son sleeping beside her for as long as she could. They had at least one more year of co-sleeping ahead of them when she realized she was pregnant. It was a surprise, again, and for whatever reason the last seven months had been far more intense than her first time around.Everything was harder, the morning sickness, the pains, the fatigue. It all crashed down on Katara with a force that made two kids seem like the perfect number. Soon after her symptoms started, they realized the effect they were having on Bumi. Despite the boy being a fairly good sleeper, every time Katara got up to use the bathroom in the night, or threw up in the morning, or shifted to get comfortable, Bumi would wake up. Quickly, the couple learned their sleeping arrangement was unsustainable, and transitioned Bumi to a crib in the other room. It was surprisingly nice at first, Katara enjoyed having more room in the bed and the ability to drift off in Aang’s arms that was reminiscent of their teenage years. But what neither parent was expecting, was their toddler to stop sleeping through the night all on his own.

Katara silently opened the door that connected her room to her son’s, a makeshift office-turned-nursery, the candle illuminating his tear streaked face and outstretched hands.

<“Shh, it’s okay baby,”>Katara whispered in her native Water Tribe language, scooping up Bumi and shifting him to comfortably sit above her bump,< “I’m here, I’m here.”>

Katara loved holding her son. She loved feeling his warmth and the rise and fall of his chest, the tickle of his hair on her face when he lay on her shoulder. If she really concentrated, she could even feel his heartbeat, pattering alongside her own. Together they swayed under dim candle light to the tune of an old Water Tribe lullaby until his cries slowly softened, and he began to calm down. Katara didn’t realize that Aang had come in, but when she saw another figure standing with a small flame in his hand, her grip unconsciously tightened on Bumi, causing him to stir and start sobbing again.

“Shit,” she groaned, “he was going back down.” Katara was normally not one to curse, but her lack of sleep and overall unrest, both from pregnancy and her son’s newly sporadic sleep schedule, was causing more than one change in her behavior. Bumi started squirming in her arms, and before any of his kicks could land on his unsuspecting unborn sibling, Katara begrudgingly passed him to Aang.

“You should’ve woken me up,” Aang yawned, bouncing Bumi, “you shouldn’t be up if you don’t have to.”

“I’m fine Aang, I wanted to.” Katara replied, leaning on the edge of Bumi’s crib.

“I know,” Aang whispered, pulling up the chair from the empty desk and offering it to his wife, “but you’re already up half the night.”  
  
“I can’t sleep if he’s fussing like this.” Katara said, accepting the seat, “he was a perfect sleeper for _years._ ”

“Remember, the healers said this happens sometimes with toddlers that are about to become big brothers,” Aang offered, kissing Bumi on the cheek, “it’s just his way of saying he needs some extra love.”

“He’s been _getting_ extra love. We’ve been with him every moment of this trip,” Katara paused, watching her husband pace back and forth with their fussing son, “maybe he’s been traveling too much.”

“He’s been traveling his whole life Katara, he’s fine,” Aang sighed, “this will pass.”

“Maybe it’s all been too much,” she whispered, watching Bumi start to lull, “things are changing so fast and he doesn’t have anything to hang onto.”  
  
“He has us,” Aang responded, shifting his son to a better position on his shoulder, “plus he’s half nomad, it’s in his blood. I’ve been traveling my whole life and I’ve been okay, better for it, even.”  
  
“But did you start this young?” Katara asked, immediately regretting the question. Aang stopped pacing, thought for a moment. He leaned his head back and took a long, heavy breath.

“I have no idea.” Aang said dryly, meeting Katara’s eyes. He was never one to be curt, especially with his family, but the lack of knowledge about his earliest years had become a sorer subject ever since Bumi was born. People often forgot, because of his cheery demeanor and positive attitude, just how much he lost. But not in moments like these, when she looked into those eyes, those lonely grey eyes. For a fraction of a second, she’d forget how others couldn’t see it. The weight. That is, until the very next moment, the next breath. When in a blink of an eye he put it all away. “But he’s going to be okay. He’ll sleep again, this isn’t about travel. This is normal.”

“I just get worried about him,” Katara replied. They had had long conversations about how they each grieve. Aang had made it very clear how much he hated the attention. In moments like this, if anyone were to mess up or push too hard, he preferred to let it be and seamlessly go back to normal, much to Katara’s chagrin. So they would talk again in the morning. “I don’t him to be this out of sorts when the baby comes. I need my little guy to be okay.”  
  
“He will be.” Aang started softly, “And if it _is_ all the travel, he’s about to spend a lot of time in one place. The most since he was born, I think.” Katara was determined to have any and all children she had in the Southern Water Tribe, meaning that she, Aang, and Bumi would spend the final months leading up to the birth (and several after) in the South Pole surrounded by family and friends.  
  
“That will be nice,” Katara said, placing a gentle hand on Bumi’s back and rubbing small circles. She paused for a moment, looking up at her husband,“I know… I know he’s half nomad, and that he know’s how to travel, and you know how to do this. It’s… it’s just different than how I was raised and I need to remember that.”

“Of course. All of this is different, for both of us,” Aang replied, wrapping his free hand around his wife,“but different can be good. Really, really good.” In the light of a single candle, they stood blissfully in each other’s embrace.

“Thank you.” Katara whispered, cupping Aang’s face with her hands.

“You never have to thank me when you’re carrying _our_ baby,” Aang replied, letting her hands guide him into a loving kiss. “Let’s let him sleep with us for the night, it’s not like we’re trying to keep a sleep schedule at this point.”  
  
“That sounds good,” Katara replied, releasing from the embrace. She interlaced her finger’s with Aang’s and guided them all back to bed. The three, almost four, of them slept soundly through the night.

As long as she could be beside them, different was perfect.

  
_——————————————————————————————_

Yen City, Present

Katara had been to Yen City many times before, but she had never arrived this early in the morning. Even from afar, the city lights blanketed the empty town in an eery glow. While Republic City had commercial boats that went to more established ports Fire Nation, it was still easier to go through Yen City to get to one of the remote islands. Yen City was one of the first towns colonized by the Fire Nation back in the Hundred Year War, and its ties to the nation remained the most connected.

When Katara awoke, Oogi had landed just outside the city and her brother was unpacking the supplies. For just a moment, she thought they were merely on another trip as ambassadors, but as soon as she saw at the missing spot next to her children, reality came crashing back down. Sokka and Katara silently collected their packs, waiting until the last possible moment to wake up the sleeping teenagers. When it was time, Sokka took one glance at his nephew, who had flown Oogi most of the way before passing out just an hour before, and gingerly put him on his back. Katara put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, whispering that it was time to go. Kya rose quietly, dutifully collecting her things before jumping off the bison and blankly staring out onto the city of lights before them. The three of them whispered their goodbyes to the bison as he turned to fly home before setting off themselves, flocking to the glowing city like moths to a flame.

Much to their frustration, the earliest ferry was leaving in nearly three hours, at sunrise. The family decided to wait out the darkness from the comfort of a nearby tea shop, taking refuge in a quiet corner with a wide low table and lots of cushions. Sokka slid a still-sleeping Tenzin onto a cushion, and Kya immediately claimed the one beside her brother, pulling her knees to her chest and leaning her head back on the wall. The only indication of it being three o’clock in the morning was the darkness peaking through the windows. Inside the tea shop, the lights were bright and the wait staff lively. Sokka initially ordered two jasmine green teas before glancing at his niece, her eyes dull and drooping, before ordering a third.

Katara barely noticed when the drink was set in front of her. She wasn’t there. The only thing that distracted her from the gaping whole in her chest, were her two other children. She cursed herself for bringing them along, both had dark bags under their eyes and a blanket of fatigue that their young bodies had never known. They didn’t grow up like she did, and she didn’t want them to. But even now, free from war, they would know the same stress filled ache that came with a fitful night. She chastised herself for dragging them into the situation, but she knew they and her brother were the only thing keeping her sane.

 _At least Tenzin was able to fall asleep_ , Katara thought. He was like his father and his brother in that way, they could sleep anywhere. Kya wasn’t. Katara knew her daughter wouldn’t be able to rest like this, and she could already see the stress taking its toll, her hair being the first victim. 

“Sweetie,” Katara said suddenly,“your braid, let me fix it.” Kya had been following Water Tribe customs when it came to her hair and often wore styles akin to those in the South. Because of the emergency, she had been unable to follow her routine, leaving her hair in a disheveled state. It was enough to briefly rally her mother.  
  
“It’s fine mom,” Kya sighed, pushing away her mother’s outstretched hand.  
  
“ _Kya,”_ Katara said firmly. Kya hesitated before shifting around so that her mother could begin braiding. Nobody, whether it be a stranger or her children, wanted to cross Katara when she used that tone of voice. They sat in a comfortable silence as Katara began unbraiding the strands and running her fingers through her daughter’s long brown hair.

“What time do you think we’ll get there?” Kya asked after a moment.  
  
“This ferry should take us to Ran Island, and from there we can go to Red Sand Island, but there may be a delay, so we should get to the hospital before dinner.” Katara replied, beginning the new braid.

“Dad’s already there right?”  
  
“Yes, he should have arrived a few hours ago.” Katara was endlessly jealous and mind numbingly sorry for her husband. Her heart ached at the idea of going through _whatever_ was happening by himself,but the not knowing, not being there for her son, was eating her alive.“There, all done little bird,” Katara said, using an old nickname as she ran a hand down the length of the new braid, “now try to get some rest okay? _Apparently_ you didn’t sleep at all last night.” Katara prayed to the spirits she sounded as normal as she was trying to be.

“I’m _okay_ mom,” Kya muttered, “I’ll sleep on the boat.”

They sat, unmoving at their table until dawn. The time was spent in intermittent conversation, mostly between Kya and her uncle. Tenzin had woken up a few times, put promptly fell back into a restless sleep, under his sister’s watchful eye. The only good thing about going to a tea shop in the middle of the night, Katara thought later, was that there was no one else there to recognize you. If the staff had, they knew well enough to mind their business. Besides braiding Kya’s hair, Katara spoke and did very little in the three hours. She could feel every second tick by. As they were getting up from the table, Sokka moved to pick up his nephew once again, but his niece lay a hand on his shoulder.

“I can get him.” Kya said firmly. Sokka raised his eyebrows. Kya and Tenzin were never the type of siblings to particularly lean on each other, without their older brother, they had only grown more independent.  
  
“Oh… okay,” Sokka responded, helping lift the sleeping teenager onto her back. He understood. He knew the feeling. The bone-deep, perspective shattering need for your younger sibling to be okay when everything else around is you is completely falling apart. Where the only thing you feel that you have any semblance of control over, is making sure they make it out. Katara wouldn’t like this new dynamic, he reasoned. Spirits know how much work went in to making sure each of her kids never felt the way they did, ensuring her daughter would never _ever_ have to grow up that fast. And it worked, for the most part. But this, Sokka knew, couldn’t be helped. He was here now, after all.

On the ship, Katara set her children up in the main hall, a room entirely made of windows with cushions and more tea. After ensuring they were comfortable, she ventured down to the main deck. Here, looking out onto the open water, she let herself be consumed once again by nerves. Katara was suffocating. Every minute she spent without her son gave way to another flood of dread. All she could do was wait. She felt powerless. The only thing bringing her back to reality, was the icy touch of the boat railing and the morning sea breeze. If she was a poet, she might’ve found this all painfully beautiful. She had done this before. On a Fire Nation ship, waiting to find out if a boy she loved so fully was alive. She had done this before, even, with the company of Sokka, and the absence of Aang. But she was not a poet, and this was not beautiful.

  
  
_——————————————————————————————_

Red Sand Island, Present

Aang had had a rough morning. The cyclical nature of Bumi’s care never allowed either of them much of break or time to get their bearings. They had been informed that many of the patients being treated from Bumi’s squadron were from his ship, and the number of casualties from the others was still unknown. The only piece of good news they had received, was that many of the members of his rank, including the other two non benders from his class, were alive and on track to recover.

At 11 AM, the stimulants started to wear off and the doctor announced they would be redressing his wounds, which hadn’t been cleaned since he was first bandaged up the night before. The doctor suggested that Aang leave the room, as it would be a fairly intense procedure, but before he could answer Bumi spoke up.

“Don’t… go, don’t go dad- please don’t go,” Bumi pleaded as he frantically tried to sit himself up. Aang’s heart broke. Immediately, he moved to his sons side, grabbing his hand and brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“I’m not doing anywhere Boom. I’ll be there the whole time.”

And he was. Aang was present for every excruciating second. Bumi had bandages all over his body, with particularly deep wounds on his chest, arm, and the side of his head. Each of these larger injuries needed to be unwrapped, cleaned, and reset. The process took over an hour. At first Bumi tried to act strong, gritting his teeth and squeezing Aang’s hand as they cleaned the wound on his leg. But when it came to the gash on his chest, Bumi screamed long and loud, begging his dad to make it stop. The whole time Aang didn’t look away, he sat by his son, holding his face and whispering how much he loved him.

 _“_ I’m know, I know, it’s almost over Boom,” Aang whispered, “you’re doing such a good job.”

For the first time, he was glad his wife wasn’t there.

Right after the procedure, Bumi was given a heavier dose of pain medication and Hao assured Aang he could step out for some air, promising to sit with him until he came back. Aang stepped out of the hospital and felt the sun on his face for the first time since yesterday. And promptly threw up. To say the past fifteen hours were intense would be an understatement. Aang could feel himself wanting to fall apart, the sound of his son screaming still playing in the back of his head as he did a lap around the hospital. _Stay strong,_ he told himself, _Bumi needs you._ He sent another prayer to the spirits, pleading that his wife would hurry, and with a breath went back inside

  
_——————————————————————————————_

When Tenzin inevitably woke up, the sun was high in the sky, shining through the window. There were two bags next to him, inside were pastries bought at the tea shop. He took the bag with his name on it and stood up, carefully laying his sister’s head, which had been resting on his shoulder, on a cushion. The ship itself was quite large, he found himself finding a ledge on the top deck to enjoy his pastry. He had first stirred when his sister laid him down on the ship, and it had, quite frankly, weirded him out that she had been the one carrying him. That had never exactly been their relationship. He was also a little embarrassedthat he had been given a piggy back ride at all, he was thirteen, _not_ a little kid.

Tenzin often wondered what his older brother was doing when he was doing on his travels, imagining the different adventures he wrote about and what it would be like to live that carefree. At thirteen, Tenzin was pretty sure he knew what his life was going to look like, he was one of two air benders in existence, but Bumi had never been like that. A part of Tenzin was jealous of his older sibling’s freedom, but another part was terrified for them. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if he had to choose.

He and Bumi had had many conversations about this. While they were six years apart in age, Bumi and Tenzin were fairly close. He knew they were not close like Bumi and Kya, but Tenzin liked to think they had their own special bond. Before he left, they frequently crossed paths in their dad’s study. Tenzin would be studying ancient texts, and Bumi looking over his father’s council notes from when he shadowed meetings. The world always saw Tenzin as “the future,” but he often saw Bumi filling that role. Tenzin would always have one foot in the past, his brother was the one looking forward.

Now, he wished for nothing more than to have another one of those talks. Tenzin thought, ironically, Bumi would be the best person to handle this situation. He would know how to comfort their mom and say the perfect thing to make Kya perk back up. Maybe, if he was here, Sokka wouldn’t think he had to come. Bumi could be enough. Tenzin wished so badly to do that for people. His siblings always teased him, saying he was too stiff or too serious. Kya never came to Tenzin with her problems the way she did Bumi, even after he left. Maybe if he wasn’t under all that pressure, things would be better.

Tenzin’s thoughts were interrupted when he spotted his mother and uncle on the lower deck. His mom was visibly distraught, more upset than he had seen her the entire trip, and Sokka had a hand on her back, rubbing small circles. Tenzin knew wasn’t supposed to be seeing this. As quietly as he could, he came off of the ledge and went back down to the cabin where he found his sister absentmindedly eating her pastry.

“Where’d you go?” she asked worriedly, making room on their cushion.  
  
“Just to get some air,” Tenzin replied, accepting his seat and leaning back on one of the pillows.  
  
“Did you see mom or Sokka?” Tenzin paused, the image of his mother’s tear streaked face flashing in his mind.  
  
“No…” he lied, thinking for a moment, “I think they’re taking some space.”  
  
“Oh…” Kya went back to looking out the window, her eyes glossing over in way that made Tenzin nervous. He needed to fix this.

“Hey,” Tenzin said, getting an idea, “want to check out the concessions below deck? I saw some fire flakes.”

“Sure,” Kya said, a faint smile momentarily touching her lips, “wait… I don’t have any money.”  
  
“I don’t either… oh! What’s it that you and Bumi always want me to do?” Tenzin asked before using an Air Nomad dialect, ensuring Kya was the only one around to understand, <“Give the shopkeeper the old _air bending_ charm?”>  
  
“Tenzin!” Kya laughed, ruffling her brother’s hair. He was of course referring to their father’s marble trick. As children, Kya and Bumi regularly tried to take _advantage_ of their brother’s unique skill set for anything people would give them, much to their parent’s mixed reactions. “We aren’t supposed to draw attention to ourselves.”

“What?” Tenzin said, pushing her back, “it works doesn’t it?” Exploiting bending techniques was never his favorite activity, but right now he would do anything to make her smile. He would do anything to be enough.

_——————————————————————————————_

Red Sand Island, Present

Katara doesn’t remember much of the ride to Ran Island, or the lunch they had overlooking the bay, or the crowded ferry ride to Red Sand Island. Their final boat was smaller, but filled to the brim with parents clutching the same telegram Katara had received, although none she recognized. The families that were able to make it this quickly were all from areas of the United Republic that were closer to the Fire Nation than Republic City, not everyone had a bison that could cut their travel time down. The air on the ferry was heavy with anxiety and anticipation, and Katara found herself stepping outside the main cabin and into the night air for fear of drowning in it.

When they finally docked at Red Sand Island, Katara almost, almost didn’t want to step off the boat. Presently, she was in a state of painful unknowing, but there was still a glimmer of hope. Knowing could feel exponentially worse. She felt a steady hand on her back, and met the deep eyes of her brother. _I’m here,_ they said. Together, they took the first step.

The town had changed since Katara had been there, but she payed little attention to anything other than the street signs pointing in the direction of the hospital. They past a market closing for the day and small restaurants opening for dinner, so many people living completely unaware and unaffected while Katara could feel her world slipping away. With every stride, the thumping in her chest grew louder and louder. Right before they turned the final corner to the hospital, Katara was stopped by the sound of quiet sniffles. Tenzin, who had attached himself to her right arm, was struggling to stop the stream of tears that was going down his face.  
  
“I’m fine, I’m fine let’s just keep going.” Tenzin chocked out through sobs. He began trying to lead them forward, still holding his mother’s hand. Katara stayed put, releasing from his grip to place a free hand on his shoulder.

“Tenzin, baby, look at me,” Katara said, cupping his cheek with her hand. “I know this is scary, okay? Really scary. But you have me, and your sister, and your uncle, and dad soon too.” She could feel her own tears welling up as she spoke, but she kept going, “and we will all be okay, and Bumi will be okay and we can get through this.” Katara could feel her voice wavering, so in a final effort to make it all feel true, for both her and her son, she pulled both of her children into a tight hug.

“You both have been so brave,” Katara said, wiping a tear off Kya’s face after they pulled back. “And I am so, so proud of you.” Katara, Sokka, Kya, and Tenzin all linked arms as they turned the corner, an unflinching wall of fear and hope.

The courtyard right outside the hospital was chaotic. Many hospital staff members were stationed at different tables outside, which had been set up in anticipation for the influx of families. Terrified parents and overworked administrators created a large crowd that was nearly impossible to step through. Katara and her family were still trying to find someone, anyone to talk to that could confirm the survival of her son, when she spotted a familiar blue tattoo peeking just above the crowds.

“Aang?” Katara whispered first, then louder “Aang!” She watched as his head whipped around at the sound of her voice, as his tired grey eyes scanned the crowd before lighting up at the sight of his family. Both parties raced through to find each other, although Aang, always light on his feet, met them first. 

“You’re here.” Aang said, jumping into the arms of his wife. He broke from their crushing embrace only to reunite with his children and quickly hug Sokka, seemingly relieved and astonished at their presence. “You’re- _all_ of you are here.” Aang turned back to Katara and took her hands in his. She took a breath.

“He’s alive.” Aang said, “Bumi’s going to be okay, he’s hurt, really hurt, but he’s alive.”

Katara’s heart skipped a beat. The dam of tension, of mounting anxiety, finally broke. Relief washed over her body with a force so strong she felt she might pass out if not for her husband’s strong hand holding her steady. Her children and brother beside her broke into cries of tentative relief. Katara’s eyes met Aang’s with a wave of newfound determination.

“Take me to him.”

Together, the five of them broke through the crowd and through the hospital doors. Aang, his hand still linked with Katara’s, smiled at the woman running the front desk, who nodded in approval as they raced down the hallway. Aang led them to passed a series of sliding wooden doors before stopping in front of one with a detachable label reading, _Bumi._

Aang stepped back as Katara opened the door. The room was bright, and under the florescent glow of hospital lights, she saw him. Bumi was awake, sitting up partially in bed with what the healer side of her brain could already assess as near-fatal wounds. He saw her, standing in the doorframe and squinted.

“…. mom?”

Katara’s heart lept to her throat as she flung herself across the room, fiercely wrapping her arms around him. They sat together for a long time, Katara kneeling, holding her son, and Bumi, letting himself be held. The weight that was lifted off of Katara’s chest was replaced by pure solace and a sob that cathartically wracked her chest. Bumi, while disoriented, shed tears as he gripped the back of his mom’s head, knowing just days before he believed he would never get to do this again.

<“I’m sorry,”> Bumi whispered in his mother’s first language. <“I’m so, so sorry.”>

<“I’m here Bumi, it’s okay I’m here,”> Katara responded, pulling away only to confirm that he, this, was _real._ She brushed stray hair’s out of Bumi’s face and started to get a better look at his injuries.

“Hey there buddy,” Sokka started, announcing his presence, “I’m glad to see you’re okay.” He took a seat at the end of Bumi’s bed and gently patted his non-bandaged leg. The only people left in the door frame now, were Kya, Tenzin, and Aang. Kya stood unmoving, staring blankly at her injured brother, and Tenzin was beside her, waiting nervously for her to make a move. Aang, noticing their hesitation, gently guided both them to the foot of Bumi’s bed. He set a hand on both of their shoulders, trying to make them more comfortable.

“Hi Bumi,” Tenzin started, unsure of what to say but willing to push through his unease, “I’m glad you’re okay too. I missed you.” Bumi looked up, his squinted eyes meeting his brother’s.

“I- I missed you too Ten, all of you,” Bumi said, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes, “and I’ll be okay.”

“Yes,” Katara confirmed, squeezing Bumi’s hand, “we’re all going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that's intense! but the family is together now (finally)!! I *almost* left the reunion for the second chapter, just to drag it out even longer, but I feel like it fit much better here. I'm excited bc now there's much more to play around and show in terms of family dynamics and kids reacting to longer emergencies/injury stuff.
> 
> a few things:  
> \- I like the idea of Zuko renaming islands that were named after his forefathers with like the original dragons and other pre-Sozin stuff so that is where Ran Island came from.  
> \- I'm gonna touch on it even more, but Aang and Katara navigating being parents of mixed kids is something I love and need so it'll be in here  
> \- I also like the idea of Aang, a person who had never thought about his parents at all or had any reason to be involved in traditions with babies, feeling kinda upset about different things when he himself became a parent, and I want to touch on that more in the flashbacks as well cause oh my boy  
> \- Katara has some Issues, especially with abandonment and upheaval, but the girl is also reversing generational trauma for her kids and we love to see it
> 
> thank you so much for reading, as always open to all comments, critiques, ideas, and I hope you stick around :)


	6. if the sky comes falling down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sibling moments galore, the good, the bad, the complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay we are back baby! first off, I am so so so sorry for taking over a month-long hiatus without any warning, this is NOT an abandoned project, quite the opposite in fact. this is a bit of a longer chapter than I have normally, and we delve into a few different themes including being Mixed, so I hope you like it cause I know I do :) 
> 
> ("Hey Brother," by Avicci is the song quote)
> 
> also light tw: mentions of the wounds and blood and one mention of someone throwing up, but nothing worse than before

_"If the sky comes falling down, for you_ , t _here's nothing in this world I wouldn't do"_

Ba Sing Se, 13 Years Earlier 

Katara and Aang were masters in the art of making a home wherever they landed. In their early years of parenting, before their children started school, Katara was adamant about both traveling with Aang wherever his duties took him, along wit continuing her own work. By the time she was 25, Katara had set up full systems of sustainable teaching hospitals and community centers in both rural and urban areas across the world. Her mission to reform the flawed healthcare systems in the post-war world was a arduous task, including politics, lobbying, teaching, and becoming a certified healing practitioner herself. Because of her large network, Katara was often able to plan her own schedule in line with her husband’s travels, meaning that they could stay together as a family for as long as possible. With Bumi starting school next fall, there was now a limit on how much time they could spend as a travel family before settling down for the very first time.

For the past month, Aang, Katara, Bumi, and Kya, had been living in the middle ring of Ba Sing Se with Aang traveling to the upper for meetings, and Katara to the lower for her humanitarian work. Neither Katara nor Aang ever liked living in the upper ring, and after having children their disdain only grew. While most of the world was fairly open and accepting of mixed relationships, especially considering Aang’s status and particular situation, but they found the more conservative circles to be more ignorant as to how to treat mixed _people,_ making it tiring environment to have their children. The middle and lower rings were far more acquainted with and accepting of many different benders and people from all nations.

Aang never particularly enjoyed his meetings in Ba Sing Se. No matter how much time had passed, he could never quite shake the association with the events that took place in the crystal catacombs. He greatly appreciated his time in the middle ring with his family and their ability to make new memories, like the celebration of his daughter’s second birthday last week, or their son learning how to read. Aang was thinking about the different words he could start to teach Bumi in his first language, Air Nomad speak, as he walked up to their home. The house they were living in was the same one they had stayed in each time they’d come to the city since having Kya. Both kids had their own rooms and a “play space” that was separate from the kitchen and living room. Often the kids spent their days at the daycare and learning center Katara helped create in the lower ring, as she herself spent most of her days there and had close relationships with all of the staff. However, there was a sickness that had spread throughout the lower ring, and when both of their children woke up with symptoms, Katara offered to stay home and take of them. When Aang begrudgingly left that morning, his wife assured him that everything would be manageable, which made him all more surprised when he found his family in the play room.

“Hey sweetie how was your-” Aang said, stopping himself as he gazed at the chaotic scene, “ oh no.” Katara was leaning against the back wall of the play room as she bounced her shrieking danghter in her lap. A sickly Bumi was laying on cushions to her right with a waste bin positioned by his face.

“It only got worse after you left,” Katara sighed, stepping over various toys, wash cloths, and buckets of water to reach her husband. “Both of them have that bug that’s going around. Bumi can’t keep anything down, Kya still has a fever, and I think they gave it to me.” A pang of guilt ran through Aang. Taking care of their children alone was already a handful, but doing while both yourself and they were sick sounded utterly exhausting.

“Spirits, I’m so sorry. I should’ve stayed home,” Aang replied, his voice raised above their crying daughter.

“It’s fine,” Katara said, running a hand through her tired braid as she began to pick up loose toys, “you’re here now.”

“Hey Bumi I missed ya, how are you?” Aang said, crouching down to meet his son’s eyes.

“Okay,” Bumi mumbled. Aang stood up again, and reached to grab the toy up Katara was going for. If she was sick, he didn’t want her to keep working longer than she already had been.  
  
“You don’t feel hot,” he said, feeling her forehead.  
  
“I’m not, I just keep throwing up,” Katara sighed, handing the wailing toddler to her husband, “take your daughter.” Aang noted privately that Katara had said _your_ instead of _our,_ which she only did when either the daughter in question was being difficult, or Katara was hitting a limit; but it was often both.

“Oh, little bird,” Aang whispered, pressing a kiss on Kya’s warm head. As he bounced her, he tried to hone in on her fever, remembering a lesson Zuko taught him on regulating the temperature of others, but his senses kept getting distracted by something else. Katara, unaware of Aang’s doings, continued to clean the room as she spoke.

“I’m not worried about any of us, but my healing can only go so far and if Kya’s fever doesn’t go down I think we need to find some medicine…” Katara continued thinking aloud, but Aang couldn’t focus. There was something different about the room, about her. Aang pressed his feet firmly on the floor and concentrated. He could feel it, what had been so distracting. There was a fifth heartbeat. _Spirits._

“Katara?” Aang said suddenly. Kya had started to settle in his arms, which only made the pounding in his ears even louder. Katara kept talking. _  
  
_“If Bumi can keep dinner down he should be okay, but either way this is messing with our schedule, we need to be in the Fire Nation by next week and-“

“Katara.”

“What?” She said, mildly annoyed. Katara had stopped cleaning and turned to face him.  
  
“I don’t think…” Aang started slowly, trying to find the words. He didn’t want to risk excitement. Not before it was real. “I don’t think you have what they have. I don’t think you’re sick at all.” Katara raised an eyebrow.  
  
“What do you mean? I’m-” Katara stopped short. They started at each other for a few moments in silence, neither fully believing what was unspoken. “Oh.”  
  
“I could be wrong but-” Katara marched across the room and took Aang’s hand, placing it on her stomach. Aang closed his eyes and concentrated on the vibrations. He could feel it even stronger now, there was no denying it. He opened his eyes, breaking into a smile and confirming “… I’m right.”

“Aang… We’re- we’re having another _baby_ ” Katara gasped, pulling Aang into her embrace. All of the fatigue and stress of the day had momentarily left the couple’s minds, completely subdued by their elation.

“We’re having another baby!” Aang whooped, squeezing his wife,“I need to sit down- _you_ need to sit down!” Aang, still holding Kya in one arm, rushed to make space on the cushions for his wife. 

“I- Tui and La I can’t believe it.” Katara said, taking a seat next to her sleeping son.

“Me neither,” Aang said joining her with Kya curled on his chest. They sat in a comfortable silence, hands intertwined for a moment before he continued, “It feels… really right.”

“It does.” Katara placed her free hand on her still flat stomach and closed her eyes, adding, “I can feel it. I can’t believe I didn’t realize until now”

“I didn’t notice until you stopped holding Kya, but the heartbeat is definitely there. It’s strong.”

“I have to be over a month then, that’s when you started feeling Bumi and Kya’s. We’ll have to go to the healer before but…” Katara gasped and sat up quickly “Aang.”

“What?”Aang asked with mounting concern, “What’s wrong?” There was already a list of all the different things that could’ve possibly gone wrong with both Katara and the baby in his head by the time she settled back in her seat.  
  
“Nothing, sorry nothing’s wrong. It’s just… if it’s around a month…” Katara paused, her eyes gleaming, “the baby will be born in Autumn.”  
  
“Oh…” Aang paused, taking in the weight of the unspoken meaning behind their baby’s possible birth season.“That… I- we can’t know anything for sure, seasons aren’t the main factor-”

“I know. But it’s okay to hope, even a little bit.” Autumn was the season associated most strongly with Air Nomads. Nearly all Air Nomads, including Aang, had been born then. The timing had never quite lined upwith their two first children, with Bumi and Kya being born in summer and winter respectively.

“I’m… I’m just excited for another baby.” Aang said clearing his throat. He swore a long time ago not to hold any unmeetable expectations for his children. Aang lifted to the toddler in his arms up to face him and then over to her mom’s belly. “A baby! Kya did you hear that? You’re going to be a big sister!” Aang paused, pulling Kya back and standing up.“Actually, wait- you definitely shouldn’t be around the kiddos until their healthy.”

“I’ve been around them all day Aang,” Katara sighed, leaning over to check on Bumi.  
  
“Even more reason to rest!” Aang said, extending a hand to _gently_ lift her to her feet. “I’ve got it from here, and I’ll stay home tomorrow.” Katara stood and leaned into a kiss with her husband. She cupped his cheek as she pulled away, smiling back at him.

“I love you.”  
  
“I love you too,” Aang replied, leaning his head into her hand before guiding her to the door. “Now go away, this is the sick room.” Katara laughed. As the door slid closed, she looked back once more, taking in the sight of her family.

“Another baby,” Katara said smiling. Aang stood, facing her and wearing the same grin.  
  
“Another baby.”

  
_——————————————————————————————_

  
Sokka was famous among family and friends for being able to sleep anywhere. Many would argue that given his lifestyle, he actually _had_ slept in most places, and done so peacefully. After growing up through months of never-ending sun in the South Pole, and spending his teenage years in near-constant travel, at 43, Sokka could sleep standing up.

But not tonight. Even as exhaustion began to cloud his vision, and the chair he’d slumped into started feeling more and more comfortable, he couldn’t rest. Not yet. As the adrenaline started to wear off,

Sokka was hit with the realization that he had not slept in almost two days. Nobody, it seemed from a glance around the room, had gotten a good nights rest in almost two days. But that was why he came. He came to notice things, and take some of the pressure off of his family. That, and he couldn’t sit at home, not knowing.

Sokka liked to be in control, especially of what happened to those he cares about. It’s why he always plans, and prepares, and plans again. He worked hard for the control he’s granted and gives to others, to the point where at times it almost felt permanent. Almost. But there was always a revolt, or a raid, or an assassination attempt, and the perfect world he nearly died for, falters. And because of all of the important people he loves, the sudden shift in the world’s normalcy was usually personal.

But it had never been this. It had never been one of the kids on their own, partially because Bumi was the only kid _on_ his own, but no matter. It was unexpected. When his nieces and nephews, quite rarely, were caught in crossfire, it was always because of their parents. Sokka wasn’t stupid, the thought had crossed his mind, first when he started training Bumi, and again when he announced his plans to join the United Forces, that Bumi could be hurt, but he was too overwhelmed with pride to let fear hinder his judgement. That, and if there was any way Bumi could possibly get hurt, Sokka, as an ambassador, councilman, and prominent founder of the very nation Bumi fought to protect, thought he would know first, and he could save him. He wanted to believe he had earned that control. But here they were.

Bumi, bless Yue, was alive, but was badly hurt. Sokka couldn’t pinpoint any singular cause of these injuries, and ruled it as a vague combination of many, painful events. He would know in time. It had been about an hour since they all reunited, and Katara had yet to let go of Bumi, clutching his arm as if her grip itself was the only thing keeping them together. Sokka’s heart ached for his sister. Even now he couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity he got on the first ferry. Katara, her eyes, glossed over and completely engulfed in guilt, brought him right back to when they had lost their mother. It made her reunion with her son even more poignant in Sokka’s eyes. He liked to say Bumi took after his father in the ways that would matter, and this was no different. He came back to her.

At the moment, the father in question was practically hovering with a mixture of relief, joy, and what Sokka would deduce, as sleep-deprived mania. Aang was floating between the different groups of people: his wife and Bumi, his younger children rigidly standing at the foot of the bed, and Sokka, who had stolen the only chair. Despite his best efforts to appear composed, Sokka could tel the past day was not easy. Aang had deep bags under his eyes and a slight stubble on his head and cheeks, the telltale signs that his friend was out of sorts. But how could he not be?

Kya and Tenzin, who, in wake of their family emergency, were as close to each other as Sokka had ever seen them- both physically and emotionally, were not fairing any better. For all intensive purposes, his niece and nephew were… off. Tenzin seemed to want to engage, or at least break from their self-imposed aloof position, but Sokka knew he wouldn’t move without his sister. Kya was his new constant, and Kya was not here. The air of stillness enveloping his niece was only broken by her thumb meticulously rubbing the bed frame. Aang, noticing his daughter’s hesitancy, had made several subtle attempts to coax her into joining the conversation, but to no avail. The mixture of shock and exhaustion manifesting in Kya was enough to rally Sokka start making a plan for the rest of the evening. Everyone needed food and everyone needed sleep, in any order. His plan-making was cut short however, by a soft knock at the sliding door.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Niko,” said the dark-haired woman entering the room, “I’m Bumi’s doctor. My shift is about to be over but I heard that more family had arrived and I wanted to introduce myself and answer any questions before I left.” Katara, for the first time since they arrived, let go of her son and stood to greet the doctor.  
  
“My name is Katara, I'm Bumi’s mother. It’s so good to meet you,” she said, giving a small bow. While any member of Team Avatar was fairly recognizable and most people they met already knew their names, Katara always felt it was impolite to assume. “I actually have quite a few questions to ask you if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” Dr. Niko smiled, “let’s step out for a moment.”

“We’ll be right back,” Katara said to her children before turning to the door, Aang leaving right behind her. Sokka looked between the pair and the teenagers, weighing his options before deciding it would be more productive to hear the medical information himself rather than waiting for the right time to ask Katara or Aang afterwards.

The Red Sand Island Hospital was much smaller than some of the other military-affiliated hospitals Sokka had been to. The island was used by Naval ships to refuel or restock before arriving, often heroically, back in Republic City. Because it was closer to mainland Fire Nation than other affiliated points and did not have a UF base, most Naval ships opted to wait and treat any injured or sick soldiers when they docked in the Fire Nation, rather than making a stop at the island. Stepping into the hallway, Sokka could tell the hospital had not had this many patients all at once in a long time. Nurses and doctors rushed passed them carrying emergency supplies as they made their way into Dr. Niko’s office. As they took their seats in front of her desk, Aang wrapped his hand around Katara’s and squeezed. Sokka wondered if he had been in this room before, and just how much had happened in the time he was alone with Bumi.  
  
“I’m going to be honest,” Dr. Niko said, clearing her throat, “as I have told your husband we are not entirely sure as to what exactly happened that led to your son’s injuries. The hospital is given fairly limited information on military events, but I can tell you what I know. If you want more information, I would point you in the direction of a commanding officer- although I’m sure you all have even more… powerful connections,” she added, alluding to the acclaim of her present company.

“Please tell us everything you know,” Katara said calmly.

“Our hospital was told that there was an attack on your son’s squadron in which a group of assailants, bending earth and fire, snuck onto the ships in a coordinated ambush. While all three ships were attacked, your son’s was the only one in which several bombs were detonated.”

“So that’s what hurt Bumi?” Sokka asked. While he wanted more information on the attack, Bumi’s condition was far more important. Dr. Niko sighed.

“Not entirely. During the attack Bumi’s arm was deeply lacerated, but upon his arrival it had already been treated with emergency supplies. Had it not been bandaged, I’m not sure if he would have made it.” Dr. Niko said. Sokka swallowed hard and Katara’s grip on Aang’s hand tightened. “He has several minor burns and abrasions on his body, as well as severe burn on his chest, most likely from a bender. In addition, he has deeper bruises that lead us to believe he fell a great distance, which also could have caused the break in his knee.”  
  
“You haven’t asked him what happened?” Katara asked. Sokka and Aang shared a look. His sister was fiercely protective of her children, and if she found out one of them was not receiving the best possible care, this already painful conversation would take a treacherous turn.

“We have, Master Katara, but I’m afraid it has not been easy.” Dr. Niko paused, pulling Bumi’s file from her desk. “Up until your husband arrived, your son had refused to speak to medical personnel. In addition, Bumi is suffering from moderate head trauma, also possibly caused by the fall, which has made recalling the events somewhat difficult.”  
  
“Okay, how do we help? What is his treatment plan?” Katara asked. Sokka was continuously impressed by his sister and her unwavering strength. The amount of information they were being told was nothing short of overwhelming, but Katara, ever resilient, pressed on.

Sokka didn’t know enough medical jargon to understand exactly how his nephew was being helped, but he knew the basics. His arm and any other scrapes were being routinely cleaned, and his leg had been set with the promise of a full recovery with physical therapy. While hospital was very familiar with treating burns, the deep wound in his chest was still touch-and-go in terms of internal impact, and Bumi would need extensive muscle care and exercises before his heart and lungs would be in the clear. His road to recovery would be hard, but if he put in the work, Bumi’s body would return to full strength. Their only real concern, was his head. It was clear that Bumi was concussed, but the hospital was not equipped to deduce or treat any deeper issues. However, in his current state, moving Bumi to the mainland was unideal.

After receiving all of Bumi’s files including his treatment schedule and meal plan, Katara decided it was time to return to Bumi’s room. Sokka left Dr. Niko’s office unsure as to whether he felt better or worse than he did going in, and he could tell Aang and Katara felt the same way. As they weaved through the hallways and passed an open window revealing the dark night sky, Sokka remembered his role.

“It’s getting late,” Sokka announced, looking out the window, “we should find a place to stay, and somewhere to get some food for the kids.”

“There’s an inn about a block away,” Aang started, running a hand over his head, “I should’ve already booked you guys a room.”

“Shouldn’t there be cots or beds the hospital could set up?” Katara asked. Sokka knew she would not leave Bumi’s side, and he didn’t expect her too. His main focus right now was helping ensure her other children were accounted for, which would take some of the pressure off of their parents. At some point he would coax his sister into sleeping in a real bed, but not tonight. “Aang, where did you sleep last night?”

“On the chair,” Aang sighed, stretching his back, “they’ve already run out of beds and there aren’t any extra cots.”

“Well I can take Kya and T to the inn tonight… and I’ll bring blankets back for the both of you,” Sokka offered as they rounded the final corner. It was not a long-term plan, but it would work for tonight.

“Aang, you should go too and get a real night’s sleep. I can handle this.” Katara said, pausing in front of Bumi’s room to place a hand on Aang’s stubbled cheek. They could both see the deep bags under his eyes. Aang leaned his face into her hand before taking it in his own.

“I know you can,” Aang started, “but I’m not leaving either of you.” Katara gave him a small appreciate smile as they slid open the door to Bumi’s room. Sokka was expecting to rally his niece and nephew for a late night adventure to find the inn, but they were met with a surprise. All three of the teenagers were in Bumi’s bed. Tenzin was dozing at the foot of the bed, carefully contorted around his brother’s cast, and Kya was sleeping with her head propped up on her older brother’s shoulder. All three adults stood silently,taking it in. Despite all the chaos and confusion of the day, here there was a moment of peace. Sokka’s attention was pulled from the bed by a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Could you see if the hospital has any extra blankets,” Katara whispered softly, “I don’t think we’re leaving the room tonight.”

“Of course,” Sokka replied. Even if it was fleeting, it felt good to see both his sister and Aang at ease. As he walked to the front desk, he was struck by how just hours ago, he was wiping very different tears off of Katara’s face than the ones threatening to spill tonight. If his precarious life had taught him anything, it would be that all the planning in the world will not prepare you for everything. All you can do is take day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment. And this moment was good.

_——————————————————————————————_

It took Bumi longer than he’d want to admit to realize that when his parents and uncle left the room, Kya and Tenzin remained. The pounding in his head made it difficult to concentrate, but even his state, Bumi was unnerved by the still silent figures standing at the foot of his bed. He knew it was bad, he could _feel_ it was bad, but he just wished it didn’t look it. Bumi hadn’t seen a mirror since he’d gotten to the hospital, but if if his sibling’s blurry expressions were telling him anything, it was that he looked about as good as he felt. Pangs of guilt hit is chest as the realization set in. They were scared. It was his fault. The silence threatened to consume him as he craved normalcy for the hundredth time since the incident.

“I… I really missed you guys,” Bumi started honestly, clearing his throat. Tenzin jumped slightly.  
  
“I missed you too,” his younger brother replied. They lapsed easily back into uncomfortable silence. Bumi wasn’t quite sure how to continue. It had never been awkward between the three of them. Of all the complicated dynamics in his life, he thought he was best at being their older brother. Lying broken before them felt almost backwards, like the roles had been reversed. He hated it.

“So… what have you guys been up to?” Bumi stammered. He hadn’t seen them in almost four months, the longest they had ever been apart. It felt like a normal thing to ask, and he wanted things to be normal.  
  
“What have we been up to?” Kya spat, raising her voice. It was the first thing she had said since their reunion, and it was not what either of her brother’s were expecting. She left her vigil at the bedpost to take a few steps towards her injured brother, arms waving. “You almost…we’re in the hospital and all you have to say?”  
  
“Kya…” Bumi said as quickly as he could, trying to deescalate the situation. He heard the glass of water on the table between them tremble. “I’m just trying to-”

“I mastered dad’s marble trick!” Tenzin yelled suddenly. His older siblings froze. “I can show it to you,” he continued, adding, “if you want.”  
  
“…Sure Tez” Bumi said. The mounting tension in the room had all but dissipated, and they were left with the tentative facade of harmony. Kya, backing down with her feelings unexpressed, moved to the other side of the room to “organize her pack” while facing the door. As Bumi watched Tenzin fish out his marbles, he added, “just come closer so I can see you better.”  
  
“What happened to your eyes?” Tenzin asked, complying as his eyebrows furrowed with worry.  
  
“It’s because of…” Bumi stammered. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his head as his muscles tensed. “it’s from when I uh…” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “it’s temporary. Show me the trick.” Tenzin grinned, his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as the marbles spun around each other. Bumi smiled, complimenting his work as he tried to ignore the new wave of nausea that came with staring at the two whirring balls. After performing the trick, Tenzin grew quite again.  
  
“Bumi?” Tenzin began, not making eye contact.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Can I… hug you?” Tenzin asked. Bumi stared at his brother. He had been so distracted by their arrival, and then so nervous, so afraid that things had changed with his siblings, it didn’t occurred to him they hadn’t actually touched. He hadn’t hugged his brother.

“You never have to ask T,” Bumi said, opening his arms as far as they could go. Tenzin jumped from his seat on the side of the bed and into his brother’s arms. Tenzin was always good at hugs. He was a reserved person, but he craved this kind of love, this fierce, all encompassing affection. Bumi wrapped himself sturdily around his brother as Tenzin burrowed himself deeper into his shoulder. For a brief moment, Bumi had forgotten about the suffocating silence and the almost fight and all the mess in his new reality. They were both so distracted, they didn’t realize their sister had gotten up from the packs by the door until she spoke.

“You’re bleeding.” Kya said, approaching them. Tenzin released immediately from the hug, scanning his brother in alarm.  
  
“I’m fine.” Bumi stammered. In truth, he had felt some pain flare up during their embrace as he tightened his grip, but he didn’t care enough to stop.  
  
“No, you’re not.” Kya said, standing over him and examining his wounds the same way their mother did with her patients. She carefully lifted a bloodied bandage off of his shoulder,“you opened a deep cut.”  
  
“Oh no I- I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Tenzin exclaimed, panicking. While he was far less squeamish at the sight of blood than his brother, the moment Kya lifted the bandage Tenzin leapt off of the bed, and began hovering anxiously behind his sister.

“It’s okay,” Bumi said gently, focusing of his brother as opposed to his arm or the dizziness threatening to cloud his vision. Tenzin was scared and he needed to fix it. “It’s not your fault.”

“It kind of is your fault,” Kya stated flatly, ignoring both the gasp of worry from her younger brother and the stern look from her older as she reapplied the bandage. “But he’ll be fine. I’m getting a nurse.”  
  
“Wait.” Bumi started as his sister turned to open the door, “Kya can you do it?” She hesitated before turning around.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Come on… your bending will be better than anything they try,” Bumi coaxed.  
  
“I’m not that good,” Kya said crossing her arms, her walls of frustration crumbling slightly with her insecurity.  
  
“Bullshit,” Bumi replied. Healing was his sister’s calling. She was being trained by their mother alongside university students at Katara’s hospital in Republic City. Despite still going to secondary school and being much younger than the other water benders, Kya remained unfazed and never fell behind.  
  
“Something could go wrong,” Kya responded.  
  
“It won’t.” Bumi said, pasuing.“I just… no more nurses till I need them. I trust you.” He had been visited by his nurses more times in the last day than he could count. Each time it was painful and tedious and overwhelming. He didn’t want to call them in unless he absolutely had to, and even more than that he didn’t need his siblings to watch him go through it if _they_ didn’t have to. Kya approached the bed once more and studied his shoulder.  
  
“Fine.” Kya said, before adding quickly, “but I’m still mad at you.” Bumi smiled softly as she unwrapped the bandage. It was progress. Although she had never actually said why, and he had never actually spat back, they both knew. When the accident happened, when he took matters into his own hands, when he acted irrationally, he hurt her. He hurt all of them. And even before, when he left, when he picked a dangerous job away from his family, he was hurting them. He was betting on their happiness as he was chasing his. They didn’t need to say it.

“I know.” Bumi replied, instantly relieved by the familiar glow circling the gash on his arm. Kya worked silently, the only noise filling the room was from Tenzin as he settled onto the foot of the bed. Bumi and Tenzin both watched as Kya began to neatly wrap his shoulder with a fresh set of bandages from the bedside table. After she finsihed, Bumi watched as his sister started at her work, rubbing the bandage more and more intensely as she pinched her face together. Bumi realized then, that the whole time she was trying not to cry.

“I…” Kya said in a choked whisper, tears spilling down her cheeks, “I was so scared.” Bumi shifted to wrap his other arm around her as she sobbed quietly into his shoulder. He felt bad. He felt really, _really_ bad. In that moment, Bumi would’ve rather gone through the entire incident again than watch his kid sister fall apart in his arms because she almost lost him.

“I know, I know,” Bumi said, rubbing circles on her back. He felt more of his own tears start to spill again. “I’m… I’m so sorry. To both of you,” Bumi added, making eye contact with Tenzin. The younger boy gave him a small smile, although Bumi could tell the events of tonight had shaken his brother. After a few moments, Kya pulled back from her brother and collected herself.

“What I did should’ve stopped the bleeding,” Kya said, wiping a tear from her eye as she readjusted the bandange. “Although a nurse should still look at it”  
  
“Later.” Bumi said before either of his siblings could get up. “I’m pretty tired.”  
  
“Me too,” Kya sighed, moving to sit on the other side of Bumi.

  
“Me too,” Tenzin agreed, shifting to lean back on the bedpost.

“I love you guys.”

  
_——————————————————————————————_

The first thing Kya noticed about her brother’s hospital room, was the noise. At all hours, doctors and nurses were rushing down the hallway right outside their door, accompanied by the clacks of their shoes on the wooden floors, and the soft murmur of their voices discussing on patient or another. After a time, it became background noise, like a steady rhythm she could almost drift off too, but her beat was always broken when another nurse stepped in. Over and over nurses cycled through to poke at her brother and write down his symptoms, and each time Kya made her own mental notes, not just of her brother but of the nurses as well. Kya wanted to be a healer, and she had spent enough time at her mother’s hospital to pick up on their methods.

Even more than that, Kya liked to observe. Unlike her siblings, who were on two opposite ends of the spectrum of decision making, she often found herself right in the middle. Kya grew up watching her older brother’s impulsive actions get him in trouble and witnessed her younger’s aversion to spontaneity keep him from experiencing life. She, on the other hand, was determined to learn from both of their mistakes, and take a calculated approach, but always, always follow through. Kya also liked to figure things out for herself, and was only mildly terrified of being caught in her parents shadow her entire life, a feeling shared between all of her siblings. Her solution, was to be independent. In this case, before asking fear—based questions that would _definitely_ upset her mom and arrive at answers that would _definitely_ be sugar coated, she decided to figure out as much as she could on her own. Their dad had given them a brief rundown of their brother’s injuries, but had not explained the care or long term effects. If Kya truly wanted to be a healer, she reasoned, she should be able to find the answers on her own. That, and thinking about this, about her brother, from a medical angle as opposed to the emotional, was unconsciously detaching her from the very real, fairly terrifying situation. This strategy worked for half of the night. After talking with Bumi, it was clear he was concussed, possibly with further issues, which was the reasoning behind the frequent check ups. They were particularly worried, she noted after their second visit, about the recovery of the wound on his chest and, there was some concern for his overall mobility levels later down the line. Her mother had been conducting healing sessions with Bumi since they arrived, but both Katara and Kya knew that if you can’t get to the wound twenty-four hours after the injury, the most you can do with water healing is alleviate pain and speed up the body’s natural process- not fix it. Even if it was not as effective as she wanted it to be, water healing was the most comforting sound at the hospital. Her mother’s healing was smooth and soft sounding, like the gentle whirl of a familiar stream. It brought a sense of peace to the room, providing quiet interruption to the constant clicks of the hospital and making stress-inducing shaky breaths of her brother. Needless to say, the aspiring healer did not sleep well that night, and before she knew it, Nurse Hiro was coming in, starting his morning shift.

“Good morning everyone,” Hiro said stepping inside, “how are you feeling Bumi?” Everyone looked to the teenager who, on all accounts, had had a difficult night. Kya, along with the rest of her family, had watched as he threw up his pain medication (twice) causing it to wear off hours later. This created a fairly upsetting scene including tears, screaming, and what the siblings lovingly referred to in their youth as a Big Talk (or their mother and father slipping away for a serious conversation that often also included tears and screaming - but almost never at each other).It was these events that started to slowly chip away at Kya’s stamina and ability to figure out what was wrong with her brother on her own. After the night’s Big Talk, Sokka was sent to book them rooms at an inn, but had no luck seeing as it was the middle of the night.

“Oh fan-freaking-tastic,” Bumi joked, flashing a crooked grin. Sokka, who at some point between Bumi’s pain-overload and scouting for the inn had found a second chair and cushions, tried to muffle a single laugh from his blanket by the door. Kya watched her mother roll her eyes, she knew they were thinking the same thing: they have the same humor, and that wasn’t funny. After the night they had, Kya had come to one conclusion: Bumi was not okay.

“You know the drill at this point, I’m going to be making sure everything still looks good, ask you the some questions, and give you more medication and a stimulant so you can eat,” Hiro said, bringing in his equipment. Bumi tensed at the sound of more medicine. 

“Can’t my mom do it?” Bumi asked. Kya could tell he was trying to mask his nervousness, “she’s like the best healer in the world.” It was true, Kya noted, their mother was a once-in-a-generation talent, but she also knew the answer was not what he wanted to hear.  
  
“I can help with the aftercare and cleaning Bumi, but you need this too,” Katara said squeezing his hand. She had taken the chair closest to Bumi after they returned from speaking with his doctor last night, and hadn’t left since. “But don’t worry, you’ll be working a _lot_ with me in physical therapy.”  
  
“Great,” Bumi winced. There was a pregnant silence as Hiro organized his equipment. Kya watched as her parents made eye contact with each other, then looked to Bumi, then Hiro’s things. Aang nodded.

“Will you give us just moment? Sorry, Katara and I need to talk about something. We’ll be right back,” Aang said before they left the room. For as long as she could remember, Kya’s parents could do that, could have a conversation with only their eyes. She was never quite sure if it was because they had know each other for so long, or if it was a byproduct of being that connected, that _in love_. At times she found it mildly annoying, but more often than not, she found it sweet. There was no noise. As they stepped outside for another Big Talk, they didn’t go as far down the corridor as before, meaning that everyone in the room was forcibly privy to their conversation. 

_“We shouldn’t have the kids in the room while he’s getting medication. Not after last night.”_

_“You’re right. But he needs them to recover. Just remember that.”  
  
“I’ll stay with him and we can send Sokka to go get us a room. You and kids should eat something. Could you take Kya and Tenzin to get breakfast?”  
  
“What? I’m staying.”_

_“You haven’t slept or eaten since you’ve gotten here. I can do this.”  
  
“Aang you haven’t left the hospital in days.”_

_“I’m fine.”  
  
“Okay then do it for the kids, Kya and Tenzin haven’t seen you in a week and their lives are completely upside down. And after last night…they need stability.”  
  
“Why did you bring them?”  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“It’s just a question. It’s making you stressed and like you said their lives are unstable now. I thought we were trying to give them consistency.”_

_“Oh because this was such a normal situation.”  
  
“It’s not… but I was just wondering why they didn’t stay with Toph. Like we planned for emergencies.”  
  
“Oh I’m sorry if some of our parenting rules went out the window when I got a telegram alone that my son was missing in action! You weren’t there Aang I couldn’t just leave them with no assurance that their brother was even-”_

_“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I get it. I would’ve done the same.”_

_“You’re taking them to breakfast.”  
  
“Of course. But you need to take a break for lunch. Promise me.”_

_“Ten minutes.”  
_  
Listening in on her parent’s serious conversations was becoming a habit Kya very eagerly wanted to break. Her uncle at first tried to distract the group by asking Hiro more about himself, but he couldn’t completely mask the discussion. At the mention of their names, Kya and Tenzin both shifted to hear better, sharing an uncomfortable glance. Bumi seemed too out of it to understand what was happening, and Hiro was very studiously engrossed in his chart. Kya was not surprised, or hurt by her parent’s words. Like herself, they hadn’t slept well in days and the situation was… taxing. As they finished talking, Tenzin and Kya moved back to their original positions far from the door, and pretended, to the best of their abilities, to act natural.

“Okay Tez, Kya, I’m taking you to breakfast!”Aang said with a tired smile on his face, “Sokka-”

“I’ll go to the inn and get a room,” Sokka said, already grabbing his bag, “just bring me back something with meat.” Aang gave him a thumbs up before kissing Katara, who had settled back in her chair, on the cheek and turning to his son.  
  
“Bumi, I love you and we’ll be back soon.”  
  
“Okay…” Bumi said deliriously, “bye dad.”

On her first step out of the hospital, Kya was bathed in the sun’s morning rays and an eruption of new sounds. She longed, momentarily, for the moon. It’s light, unlike it’s louder brother, gave her not only energy, but a sense of control she wished for now. For not the first time in her life, she wondered if her father felt the same way they did at night right now, under the sun. He had explained once, the way the moon and the sun both pulled him, but she could never fully understand the dance he described. To her left, Tenzin, who had no cyclical connection to either the sun or the moon, was unfazed by the daylight, but preoccupied by the change in scenery- they were in public. The citizens of Republic City had become fairly normalized to the “Avatar family,” but outside the city, walking with their father was always an ordeal. Kya had gotten used to the stares that followed her father’s arrow, but she also knew they weren’t directed at her. Tenzin on the other hand, even with hair, was not as invisible to the public. On his own, he could pass fairly easily for a boy of Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation (in the winter) ancestry, but with his father, it was easy for onlookers to put the pieces together. He was the second air bender. The hope for the world.

As they walked down the road, Kya watched as her brother sunk further and further into himself. She understood his reluctance for fame, in the South Pole her mother’s acclaim weighed heavier than her parka, and even more, she understood his mounting shame. While the brother laying in a hospital bed was the one the world often saw as the _failure_ for his lack of bending, each child of Aang and Katara harbored their own fear of inadequacy that manifested in very different ways. Tenzin’s fears were never explicitly voiced to Kya, she didn’t know where to begin that kind of conversation with her brother, but she knew. By the time they reached the tea shop, Tenzin had all but disappeared into his tunic. Aang, blinded by exhaustion, had not noticed his son’s discomfort and continued with business as usual.

“Hello,” Aang said politely, stepping up to the host, “we’d like a table for breakfast please.” The woman behind the counter gasped as they entered.  
  
“Oh Avatar Aang, it would be my honor,” the woman gave a small bow before continuing, “A table for two?” Kya knew, almost immediately, the two she meant. She was standing a few steps back from her father and her brother, but was still clearly apart of the group, just not with the same _color._  
  
“Three actually,” Aang replied kindly. Kya wasn’t sure if her father was merely too tired to realize the nuance of her mistake, or if he didn’t want to publicly embarrass this woman.  
  
“Three?” The host responded. Kya wanted to roll her eyes. The woman, Kya noted, had black hair, amber eyes, and pale skin, meaning it would be very surprising if she was mixed. She was also from a small Fire Nation island, which meant there were either very, very few, or no mixed families in the area. She didn’t think Kya was with her father because she, as her uncle put it, ‘loudly wore the Southern colors.’  
  
“Yes myself, my son, and my daughter,”Aang said, putting a hand on both his children’s shoulders. No matter how many times this happened, it always made Kya uncomfortable. She didn’t like anyone making her feel out of place. Kya felt the heat rising to her cheeks as she realized in that moment that she was the darkest person in the entire shop, by many, many shades. Kya was her mother’s daughter. She was raised to never, ever, be ashamed of her heritage or the way she looked, and she wasn’t. Kya loved her hair and her skin and wearing the same blues they wore in her mother’s birthplace, but that didn’t mean she liked feeling alone. It made her angry.  
  
“Oh your daughter!” The host realized, “Of course, my mistake. Right this way.” As they followed her to a table toward the back, Tenzin moved to walk alongside his sister.  
  
_“Well that was annoying.”_ Tenzin whispered in Southern Water Tribe Speak. Kya rolled her eyes. _  
  
“It’s been a while for sure,” _Kya responded dryly. As “mild” as the moment was, she couldn’t shake her irritation. _  
_

_“Do you think she’d do the same thing if it was reversed, with me and mom?”_ Tenzin asked. While Kya had had her fair share of “moments” with her father, hers _paled_ in comparison to the comments and assumptions that came with Tenzin when he was with anyone on her mother’s side of the family. It was harder, apparently, for the world to accept that such a pale child was half water tribe. _  
  
“I’d bet money on it.”_ Kya replied smiling. This, she noted, was always something they could talk about, regardless of however else their relationship was. _  
  
“We are on a Fire Island,”_ Tenzin said as they approached their table, _“the deeper you go into the nations the less… normal mixed families are.”  
  
“You mean the more ignorant b-"_  
_  
_ “Here is your table!” The host announced, unaware of the previous conversation.

“Thank you so much,” Aang said, sliding into the chair beside his son. Kya took the seat across from them and began to study the menu. Aang glanced for a moment at the breakfast section before getting an idea. “Do you guys want daifuku? I think I’m getting daifuku.” Kya and Tenzin shared a look.

“It’s ten in the morning,” Tenzin reasoned. While it _could_ be eaten as a snack, in their household dessert items were reserved for _after_ dinnertime unless it was a special occasion, a rule put in place by their mother after the “Great Coconut Bar Sugar High of 116 AG.”  
  
“It’s okay Tez, they were amazing from what I can remember. Kya, honey do you want some?” Aang replied, already flagging down a waiter.

“I mean sure,” Kya responded. Aang, unconscious or not, was trying to soften the situation by giving them something special. It was a tactic often used on Kya and her siblings throughout their youth whenever their parents had to go somewhere they may not return. As a child, Kya never understood why adults thought sugar could fix the all-consuming pit in your stomach. But in this moment, whether it was because she was older, or because her father was so clearly trying to hold it together, she realized it was just as much for the adult as it was for her.  
  
“Great, Tenzin?” Aang asked as the waiter came over. Tenzin gave his sister another worried look before responding.  
  
“Okay,” he confirmed. Kya rolled her eyes. Her brother. Ever the goody two shoes.

“We would like three servings of daifuku please, and three green teas,” Aang asked the waiter, cheerfully.

  
“Right away,” they responded after giving a small bow. As soon as they left, the family fell into silence, the only sound being the quiet tap of Tenzin’s foot bouncing on the wood floors.  
  
“I missed you guys so much,” Aang said earnestly. Kya smiled back. Of course she had missed her father, she missed him like she did every time one (or both) of her parents left. Kya missed him when she got in fights with her mother, when her brother pretended he was more responsible than her, and especially when her mother couldn’t sleep, and from the staircase she’d watch Katara sit up with the moon. But not all of it, she knew, was caused by his absence. Things had been different for a long time. With Bumi gone, Kya had to fall into new patterns, they all did. So yes, Kya missed her dad for all the reasons she always did, but she missed their family dynamic even more. But right now that ache was suddenly replaced with something bitter. Because it was almost taken away.

“We missed you too,” Tenzin said, speaking for both his sister and himself. She hated when he did that, even if it was “helpful.” Tenzin started fidgeting, ever so slightly, in the way he did when he wanted to say more. “Dad.”

“Yeah.”  
  
“What’s the plan?” Tenzin asked nervously. Aang, who had leaned back on his chair, paused mid-stretch.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Like…” Tenzin elaborated, “how long does Bumi need to stay here?” Kya perked up, she hadn’t thought anyone would be bold enough to turn the conversation towards the elephant in the room. She felt like a bubble, threatening to pop at the mention of her brother’s condition. She had just spent the better part of the night observing his condition and treatment, and had found less than promising results. Kya wanted answers, real, concrete, reassuring answers.

“Right now we don’t know buddy, it all depends on how he’s healing,” Aang replied, placing a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. “But with your mom here I’m sure the process will be faster. He’s in very good hands and they are expecting a full physical recovery.” Kya raised an eyebrow. She wanted to believe her father, but they had been in the same hospital room, she knew there was more to it. A part of her knew not to press on, to live in a world where everything would be completely fine, with dessert for breakfast. But she could still hear Bumi’s screams from last night ringing in her ears, and until she knew he was safe, she’d have to burst the bubble.

“What about head? Can’t that have… long term effects?” Kya inquired. Aang’s air of optimistic calm faltered, ever so slightly.  
  
“What do you mean?” Aang asked.  
  
“He hit is head or something right?” Kya confirmed,“So… what’s the plan for that? He can’t even see more than a few feet in front of him.” Her voice shook at the end, ever so slightly.  
  
“His doctors are monitoring his progress, there’s no reason to worry about it.” Aang said gently. Before Kya could retort, the waiter returned.

“Here are your teas!” The waiter said, carrying a tray of cups and a tea pot, adding, “I’ll bring the food in just a moment.”  
  
“Thank you so much,” Aang replied. Kya focused her attention on the sound of tea hitting the ceramic glasses as it filled the new, vaguely awkward silence.“So… how have you two been?”

“How have we been?” Kya retorted.

“Kya, dad only meant-” Tenzin said quickly.

“I know what he meant.” Kya snapped. If there was ever a time for her brother not to jump in, it was right now.

“She’s right she’s right. I’m sorry… silly question,” Aang said, trying to diffuse the situation.“All of this is intense, I’m here if you need to talk about it.”

“Thanks dad,” Tenzin said, obviously ignoring Kya’s glare.

“But how has school been going?” Aang said, trying to lighten the mood. Kya was unenthused.

“Good. We’re learning all about Southern Water Tribe history right now! Did you know people used to ride on polar leopards?” Tenzin responded. Kya perked up.

“That’s not true,” she said, matter-o-factly. Kya had studied enough Water Tribe history, far more than her brother, to know that if it was true, it would come up.  
  
“What?” Tenzin said, flustered, “Yes it is.” And be it from the previous conversation over Bumi’s progress, the lack of sleep, or the fact that her younger brother was so quickly falling into old habits after she felt they had made true progress on their journey over, but this was all it took to send Kya tumbling over the edge.

“No,” Kya continued, “it’s not.”

“Why do you even care?” Tenzin snapped.  
  
“Because what you’re saying is wrong!” Kya said, digging in.

“Okay kids-” Aang said, trying to step in as his kids grew more and more heated.

“How would you know? You’re not in my class,” Tenzin added. Kya knew, objectively, that this was a stupid fight, taking the same shape as most of their arguments: verbally, over a table, in a thinly veiled unconscious attempt to let out their anger about something entirely different.  
  
“We’ve _lived_ there, I know it’s not true,” Kya argued, leaning further back in her chair.  
  
“Oh so you know everything about them then,” Tenzin said, crossing his arms.  
  
“Well I’m also the only one who’s taking water bending courses,” Kya said, almost smiling. She knew this would be harder for him to counter. “We study both tribes in those too.”  
  
“Just because I’m not a water bender doesn’t mean I don’t know about _our_ tribe!” Tenzin almost yelled back. Kya winced, she had struck a very particular, very _off limits_ chord.  
  
“Oh shut up that’s not what this is about,” Kya said, trying to brush it off, but she knew it was too late. Tenzin’s mouth formed a thin line, his eyes narrowed.  
  
“Even though your _enrolled_ in the course doesn’t mean you’re learning anything,” Tenzin spat, “you missed half your classes this week.” Kya’s eyes widened.  
  
“Tenzin!” The vague bitterness that had been brewing in Kya turned (momentarily) to full on rage towards her brother. She (mostly with Lin’s help) had convinced him to cover for her at school while she went with her friends to an underground protest art show that week. All of the cool (queer) teens and university students were going, and Kya _had_ to go. She was often very on top of her studies, she had to be to keep her position at the hospital, but every now and then Kya gave herself a pass. She had covered for Bumi many, many times during his school career, and never once had she snitched on him. Tenzin however, did not feel privy to the same moral ties.  
  
“I’m just saying,” Tenzin said suavely, taking a long sip of his green tea, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you missed the lesson.” She was going to kill him.

“Kya,” Aang sighed defeatedly. His kids didn’t pay his interjection any attention.

  
“You better shut up.” Kya threatened, leaning across the table.  
  
“You shut up!” Tenzin yelled back, mirroring his sister.  
  
“ _Hey_.” Aang said in what his family called his Avatar Voice. It was a warning. The last shred of the upbeat attitude of the Avatar that entered the tea shop had finally fallen away, revealing a very tired and far less patient version of their father. Both children silently took their seats. Suddenly, with terrible timing, their waiter returned.

“Here we are!” The waiter said happily, unaware of what just occurred, “three servings of daifuku for the Avatar and his children.”

“Thank you” Aang said, flashing a smile to the waiter before looking back his children with a far more tense expression. He sighed, running a hand over his face before he spoke. “Look. We’re all tired and overwhelmed… Let’s just let it go. But Kya, the school discussion isn’t over.” Kya looked at her brother, who was just as guilty and embarrassed as she was.

“Dad-” Kya started, hoping to explain herself.

“Later.” Aang said, pinching the bridge of his nose as was cutting her off. When he opened his eyes again, Aang wore a soft smile. “Let’s just eat okay?” With that, the three of them finally began their meal. A few bites in, Kya ventured again to speak.

“It’s pretty good,” she noted, chewing on a piece of mochi.

“Ty Lee’s is better,” Tenzin added. He and Kya made eye contact. This was their truce. They didn’t need to say it.

“Haha it is,” Aang chuckled. They ate in silence for a few moments, before he added, “maybe let me tell your mother about this, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okayyyyy much to unpack!!! I want to say a few things first off
> 
> \- okay so I have a thing I often like to say, which is that I write things I need. I've incorporated the struggle of being biracial into this piece because its something I wish they would have done, something I think makes sense for the characters, and is something for me. I wrote this instance from a perspective I have had, and in no way think that my experience and interpretation is anyone else's, but I do hope the feelings Kya had feel a tad validating to any poc/mixed reader out there
> 
> \- also, im not a doctor, so the information about Bumi and his illness/wounds are from the internet and some light first aid knowledge, feel free to tell me if its not making sense
> 
> \- im gonna be updating more regularly now, I apologize for the break I took, I hope you can forgive and stick with me, as always im open to any and all comments/critiques/etc :))
> 
> thank you so so so much for reading 
> 
> \- azalea


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